


How to Survive the Obligatory Holiday Special...With the Love of Your Life

by katietonks



Series: Welcome Back to Love Island! [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Anal Plug, Anal Sex, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Lingerie, Christmas Party, Christmas Vacation, Coming Untouched, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Flirting, Floor Sex, Fluff, Gift Exchange, High Heels, Holidays, Humor, Kissing, Lingerie, Love Island, M/M, Mistletoe, Reality TV, Reality TV Dating, Riding, Romance, Sharing a Bed, Stockings, Top Steve Rogers, Ugly Holiday Sweaters, dating show
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:16:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28307382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katietonks/pseuds/katietonks
Summary: After somehow surviving a summer-long reality TV dating competition, Bucky Barnes returns for the holiday special, reconnecting with friends and reminiscing on the past, while making new traditions with the man of his dreams. Full of joy and love and surprises, it's an episode you simply can't miss!AKA: Part 2 of the Love Island!AU
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Series: Welcome Back to Love Island! [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2073258
Comments: 26
Kudos: 119





	How to Survive the Obligatory Holiday Special...With the Love of Your Life

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome Back to Love Island!
> 
> If you haven't read Part 1 of this series yet (How to Survive a Reality TV Dating Show...Without Really Trying), please do so! (Otherwise, this won't make a lot of sense 😅)
> 
> And if you have read Part 1, then grab a blanket, mug of cocoa, and get cozy as you dive right in to the Holiday Special! 🎄

_How to Survive the Obligatory Holiday Special…With the Love of Your Life_

🎄

[ _Ah, the holidays. The smell of fresh pine as you wrap twinkling lights around your tree, carefully placing homemade ornaments on each prickly branch. Drinking rich and creamy hot chocolate topped with mini marshmallows out of your go-to ceramic mug, while you watch your favorite festive flicks, quoting half the lines. Curling up with an old novel, pages worn and curled with love, beneath a crocheted blanket, listening to the crackling flames of the fire beside you._ ]

[ _It’s a time to gather with friends and family, reconnecting and reflecting on the year. It’s a time for honoring timeless traditions and making new ones. It’s also a time for checking in on our new favorite reality TV stars and seeing what they’ve been up to since finding love by shipping them all out to a cozy-yet-massive mansion in New England, decked out with holiday spirit._ ]

[ _Our first couple is already on their way…_ ]

“I’m really excited about this,” Bucky said, watching the snowflakes land on the evergreen trees that rushed past the backseat window.

Beside him, Steve cocked an eyebrow. “Oh, are you?”

Bucky tore his gaze from the watercolor blur of trees and snow and playfully nudged Steve’s arm. “Don’t sound so surprised!”

Rubbing the spot that Bucky shoved, Steve chuckled. “That’s just a very different reaction than how you were feeling the first time we did this in the summer.”

“Yeah, well, this is a very different situation,” Bucky said with an eye-roll. “I actually want to be here this time.”

Steve’s laughter felt as warm as the wool jacket that Bucky pulled closer around him. “That’s a decent place to start.”

Bucky hummed in agreement and turned his attention out the window again to watch the driver behind the partition pull them deeper into the quaint woods, following a winding path. “Seriously, though, it’ll be nice to see what everyone’s been doing since July. I mean, obviously it’s not the 1800s and we _know_ what everyone’s doing, but it’ll be nice to see them in person again.”

“Oh, absolutely. This is always a good episode. Getting the whole gang back together in a gorgeous mansion to see who’s still together and how everyone’s adjusting to the fame.”

Bucky smirked and offered Steve his hand on the seat between them. “I’d say we’re doing well with both of those things.”

Steve agreed by lacing their fingers together.

When the natural, rocky pathway smoothed out into a paved driveway, Bucky gasped as the golden sunset streaming through the parting trees revealed where they would be spending the evening and following day. “No way is this real.”

The two-story, red-brick Colonial towered over them, stately and perfectly symmetrical. Snow-dusted garland adorned each windowsill along with a bright red bow, and classic white lights spiraled around the two columns that lined the entrance. In the center of the door hung a massive wreath, decorated with sparkling ornaments and another red bow. The house – or _mansion_ , truly – looked like it belonged on a postcard to boast an absolutely perfect holiday retreat, reserved for the upper echelon of society. Bucky assumed that this was the estate where First Families went on vacation, not the seventeen people who participated in a reality TV dating show.

Steve smirked as he held out his hand to help Bucky step out of the car once it stopped in front of the fountain in the courtyard – yes, _the courtyard_. “Oh, this is real.”

“Amazing,” Bucky said, breathless, taking in the details of their home-for-a-day with wide eyes.

Hand in hand, Steve led Bucky up the stairs to the doorway. “C’mon. I’ll show you around.”

Bucky’s jaw dropped to the marble floor as soon as they stepped into the foyer – that’s right, _foyer_. They were greeted with the sight of the grand staircase that stopped at a landing and split left and right on the second floor. Fake (but still wildly realistic) candles lined each step, and garland lined the railings. On each side of the staircase, two of the tallest trees that Bucky had ever seen in his entire life were decorated with glittery, heart-shaped ornaments and dripping with tinsel that sparkled beneath the crystal chandelier.

“So, this is where we all greet each other and hang out until everyone gets here. They’ll introduce couples one by one,” Steve explained, gesturing around the foyer and casually walking backward to guide Bucky to the next room, where plush couches surrounded the fire flickering in the marble hearth. “Then, we’ll probably move to the living room and spend the rest of the evening sharing stories over rum-spiked eggnog.”

“Sounds good to me,” Bucky said, running a hand along an unbelievably-soft blanket thrown over the back of one of the couches. “I love eggnog.”

With pure adoration in his clear blue eyes, Steve groaned. “Of course, you do.”

“Hey!” Bucky laughed and called out to Steve as he moved on to the dining room, shaking his head. “I thought we agreed to not judge each other’s food preferences.”

“I’m not saying a damn thing,” Steve said as Bucky joined him around the table, almost laughable in its length with all seventeen places already set with fine china and silverware and linen napkins folded into hearts. Of course, Bucky and Steve’s place cards, written in a fancy and looping calligraphy, sat beside each other.

“This is where we’re having the big dinner tomorrow?” Bucky asked, admiring the centerpiece made from pine branches, holly, and red poinsettias.

Steve nodded and led him into the kitchen where candles burned on the large island, smelling like vanilla frosting. “And this is where we’ll make it.”

Bucky paused in the middle of observing how the fridge was hidden among the modern, black cabinets. “Um, ‘ _we_ ’ as in…?”

“All of us,” Steve replied, far too cheerful for someone assigned the task of making a meal to feed almost twenty people. Ever the optimist, he explained, “It’s nothing to worry about. We all make one dish in our couples and then share them. Easy.”

“Sure,” Bucky agreed, wondering who would be volunteering to cook the turkey and then wondering how big that turkey had to be.

Already in the next room, Steve called back for him, “Hell, we could even make your nasty coleslaw if you want.”

Bucky scoffed and met him in the next room, which happened to be another seating area but cozier with leather chairs and bookshelves that wrapped around the walls. “Watch it, pretty boy,” Bucky said, lowering his voice and resting his hands on Steve’s chest to feel the cream-colored cableknit. “You get cocky when you know you look good.”

“Oh, yeah?” Steve continued to slowly walk backward, bringing Bucky with him until they reached the doorway on the other side. “You think I look good?”

Bucky shifted his gaze up from the soft sweater beneath his hands to the pink lips pulled into a snarky grin before stopping at the mistletoe hanging above them. “Really? Fishing for compliments before begging for a kiss? You’re gettin’ desperate, Stevie.”

Steve simply shrugged and raised a hand to cup Bucky’s jaw, while the other slipped beneath his gray coat to rest on his side, feeling his sweater in a deep wine-red color. “Can’t help it when _you_ look this good, Buck.”

Despite the sappy line, Bucky leaned into the feather-light kiss that Steve planted on his lips, allowing Bucky to be the one to deepen it. Even after six months of knowing each other, five months of officially being together, and four months of living together, the time did nothing to satiate the constant craving for this man, humming beneath his skin. In fact, the desire may have only gotten stronger, encouraging him to loop his arms around Steve’s neck and toy with the golden strands that he’d been allowing to grow out.

When they parted, Steve chuckled. “Well, that’ll look good on camera.”

Bucky blushed and spotted the familiar four red lights in the corners of the room. After spending the summer under the 24/7 scrutiny of a lens, along with the past few months for the new show in their own home, Bucky had gotten plenty accustomed to being surrounded by cameras, but he still felt a little shy, knowing how they perfectly captured the exact moment that his knees would buckle from Steve’s affection.

Stepping back, Steve trailed his hand down Bucky’s arm and left it to linger at his wrist. He nodded toward the next room, and as they stepped through, Bucky realized that they had wrapped around to the entryway again, standing beside one of the Christmas trees. “Shall we grab our bags and check out the upstairs?” Steve asked.

Bucky nodded and followed him outside.

Both hallways upstairs were lined with doors on both sides, but Steve insisted they take the left path. “All the couples get their own rooms here–”

“Decent upgrade from the villa,” Bucky interrupted with a smirk.

“Definitely,” Steve laughed. “But they all have to share limited bathroom space. For being the winners of the competition, however, we get one of the bigger rooms, which comes with an…”

Thrilled to repeat one of his favorite words that he learned while house-hunting, Bucky excitedly filled in the blank: “Ensuite?”

Steve smiled and gestured to the door at the end of the hallway that had their names written on a quaint placard hanging from the knob. “Let’s find out.”

Stepping into their room, Bucky felt a wave of familiar emotions flood over him, reminded of the cautious steps he took while crossing the threshold into the Hideaway to share their first night alone. Compared to the first floor that boasted a more modern style, this room certainly paid homage to the Colonial style of the house as a whole, all wood and warmth. The enormous bed, of course, commanded the space with four posts and a canopy hanging over what looked to be a homemade quilt that Bucky couldn’t wait to cuddle up beneath with Steve. An antique mahogany dresser with intricately-carved designs stood against one wall, and a take-one-leave-one bookshelf stood along the other. Two armchairs faced the brick fireplace across from the bed with a synthetic fur rug between them that looked soft on top of the cool hardwood floor.

“Yeah,” Bucky decided, setting his bag down beside the bed and catching a glimpse of the clawfoot tub in the attached bathroom. “I think I could spend a night here.”

“I think so too,” Steve agreed and extended his hand, wordlessly offering to hang up Bucky’s coat on the rack beside the door.

After shimmying out of the jacket and undoing his scarf, Bucky stepped closer to the bed and ran his fingers along the careful stitching of the quilt.

“This weekend was always my favorite while filming the show,” Steve said from behind him. “Getting to escape to our own hidden manor in the woods. Seeing some friendly faces and reconnecting with the whole cast again – even the ones who were a pain in the ass to produce.”

Bucky gave him a grin over his shoulder. “Oh, like me?”

“No one came anywhere close to you, babe,” Steve said, shaking his head. Once he turned his attention back to the quilt, Bucky jumped at the feeling of strong arms wrapping around his torso but laughed when Steve pressed a kiss to the spot under his ear where he knew was ticklish. “And I definitely wasn’t spending the night with anyone back then. Now that I’m not a producer and I got you, though, seeing this perfect, cozy bedroom is giving me some ideas.”

As Steve peppered his neck with kisses, Bucky leaned back into his embrace. “Yeah? And what might those ideas be?”

Steve slipped a hand beneath his sweater and dropped his voice to the deep, gravelly pitch that instantly raised the hair on Bucky’s arms. “Just imagine me stripping you out of those nice clothes tonight, climbing into that bed after we light that fire, and making love for hours in front of those roaring flames.”

Bucky hummed, more than willing to picture those images but also aware that they didn’t have time before the others arrived to address how Steve was starting to grind against him, making Bucky’s breath hitch in his throat. “Yeah, hot shot? Think you’re gonna get lucky?”

“Oh, no,” Steve said, breath ghosting the shell of Bucky’s ear before quickly spinning him around and pushing him onto the mattress. “I think I’m gonna get _Bucky_.”

As his back hit that gorgeous quilt, Bucky couldn’t help the peals of laughter that escaped his mouth when Steve climbed over him and attacked his sides with an onslaught of tickles. “Stop it!” Bucky cried out, batting Steve’s hands away. “You’re the worst!”

Steve only stopped when his own laughter became too much to control. “That might’ve been the most atrocious thing I have ever said.”

“Yeah, please never, ever say that again,” Bucky said, still struggling to catch his breath. He reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind Steve’s ear, admiring the subtle, natural waves that formed at this length. “God, you’re such a dork, and I love you with my entire heart.”

With a sweet smile, eyes crinkling, Steve pressed their foreheads together. “Love you more.”

Bucky could have lived forever in the magic that crackled in the air every time they exchanged those words, but he sighed and sat up with Steve. “We should probably greet the others, right?”

🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄

Peeking out of the frosted window, Bucky saw that Carol and Val were the first to arrive. Despite placing bronze in Love Island, Carol wore a silver suit with a low-cut, white, silk shirt beneath the jacket, and Val looked stunning in a body-conforming, glitzy gold dress. Together, they shined as radiant as the metallic, glittering decorations around them. They shivered as they stepped into the foyer but immediately pulled Bucky and Steve into warm embraces and offered them even warmer smiles.

“Oh, it’s been so long!” Carol said, squeezing him tightly and reminding him that the last time they had seen each other was the finale. “You boys are looking good.”

Stepping back from Steve, Val nodded and gave him a nonchalant onceover before grinning at Bucky. “Love how Carol went short and Steve went long for the winter.”

Steve ducked his head while sweeping back his slightly-messier waves, and Carol tilted her head to show off the closely-shaved sides of her new haircut. “Blondes do it better, baby,” she said through a chuckle, lightly punching Steve on the arm and nodding toward the table that held glasses for the – _of course_ – champagne.

While their blondes popped the bottle, Val stood beside Bucky with a smirk, glancing at Steve out of the corner of her eye. “Loving the beard too, by the way. I wasn’t sure if he’d be bringing it to the reunion or if that was just for you to enjoy back home."

Bucky laughed, feeling his cheeks flush again. Before Steve moved to New York, seeing the possibility of facial hair on his boyfriend for the first time while FaceTiming had been nothing short of a religious experience. Steve apologized, saying that he’d had a lazy few days while packing and promised to shave later, but Bucky suggested maybe he…not. Bucky happily watched the beard grow out fully over the months, braving the light scratches on his body until it became luscious and soft, begging for him to sink his fingers into it.

“My sexy, rugged lumberjack,” Bucky mused under his breath, watching him fill two glasses.

Val hummed as Carol started walking back over after pouring two glasses for them, as well. “I’ll cheers to that.”

“What are we cheers-ing to?” Steve asked, handing Bucky his champagne flute.

“To both of our beautiful new homes,” Val answered swiftly and dropped Bucky a wink.

Beaming, most likely picturing her gorgeous, modern masterpiece in the Hills, essentially a glass box with balconies on different levels and an infinity pool in the backyard that overlooked the city, Carol raised her glass. “Hear, hear!”

After taking a sip of bubbly, savoring his favorite effervescent notes of citrus, Bucky looked between them. “Who else is living together now?”

“Jane and Thor just got a place together in L.A., right?” Steve asked.

“Yup. Things are getting _serious_ ,” Val said in a singsong voice, waggling her perfectly-sculpted eyebrows.

Carol grinned as she brushed their arms together. “And did I hear Riley and Sam are finally moving in together?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Bucky was thrilled to answer after Riley shared the news with him only a week before. “Should be moving in January.”

“Such a relief,” Steve said through a sigh.

“Yeah, I’m so glad they’re able to make it work,” Val added. “Have you seen pictures of the house yet?”

Bucky shook his head. “I only know that it’s in a rural, little town on the border of Tennessee and Virginia, pretty much perfectly halfway between Nashville and D.C.”

“Love that,” Carol said with a grin.

“I can only assume they’re keeping the big reveal a secret,” Steve began, looking around the impressive foyer and up at the expansive second floor, “because it looks a lot like this.”

While they all laughed, Bucky knew that there absolutely had to be an element of truth in that joke, certainly able to picture Sam and Riley in a tremendous mansion to house their baker’s dozen of future children.

“If that’s true, we could do a yearly reunion then,” Val suggested. “I’d love to see that house.”

“And I’d love to see _your_ house,” Carol said, nudging Steve’s elbow and glancing at her girlfriend. “Those renovations look fabulous. Miss Ice Bath After Every Practice here can’t stop talking about that golden freestanding tub.”

Bucky smiled, unable to keep the memories from springing to mind of Steve surprising him after a long day of work with pink rose petals leading the way up to the second floor, through their bedroom, and scattered throughout the warm bath he had drawn with one of Bucky’s fragrant lavender oils and candles circling the tub. (Steve sat behind him, keeping Bucky pressed against his chest while he rested his tired eyes, and massaged conditioner into Bucky’s hair until he fell asleep in his arms.)

“You’re more than welcome to see it in person next time you’re on the East Coast,” Bucky told Val after clearing his throat, blushing away the sappy emotions that beat in his heart.

“Likewise,” Carol said. “Next time you’re on the _Best_ Coast, you should come visit. I know you’re dying to try out our rainfall showerhead, Bucky.”

Bucky gasped, as Val gripped his arm and did little hops in her stilettos. “It’s amazing! Like showering under a legit waterfall. Especially under the natural rocks like we have…”

While Bucky continued to listen to Val gush about their shower, Steve shook his head and leaned in Carol’s direction. “Have you ever seen two people so enthusiastic about bathroom fixtures?”

Bucky and Val scoffed at the same time before returning to their conversation.

“There’s something so refreshing about – _holy shit!_ ” Bucky gasped, interrupted in the middle of explaining why their bathroom oases held merit, when a muscular pair of arms wrapped around his chest from behind. He looked down to find his feet dangling above the floor.

“Hello, friend,” a familiar deep voice said into his ear, and realizing that he never heard the door open, Bucky laughed.

“Thor, put me down,” he said, wiggling from his grasp before he could turn and give Thor a real hug. “Good to see you again.”

Thor beamed down at him, still looking godlike even in an ugly Christmas sweater with three-dimensional bows sticking off of it. Jane stood beside him in what looked to be one of Thor’s plain, navy-blue sweaters, draping over her petite frame like a dress and paired with matching, knee-high boots. Carol and Val immediately pulled her between them and sandwiched her into their embrace.

With great amusement, Bucky watched Thor set his sights on Steve, opening his arms wide. Shaking his head with a grin, Steve stepped forward. “Bring it in, big guy.”

“Looking good,” Thor said and patted him on the back hard enough to leave a bruise before tapping him on the cheek with slightly less force. “The beard suits you. Although, I can’t help but wonder where you got the inspiration.”

Thor shot Bucky a playful wink, running a hand through his own beard, and Steve crossed his arms. “You may have worn it first, but I wear it better.”

“Oh, damn,” Carol interjected, as Thor’s booming laugh filled the vast space of the foyer. “He came back with a new house, a beard, _and_ an attitude.”

While Steve ducked his head to take a sip of champagne, Thor clapped Bucky on the arm and said loud enough for the whole group to hear, “Very kind of you to bring your grandfather with us on this vacation.”

The others cackled, and Steve scoffed, far less into the new inside joke than everyone else.

***

A month or so before, Bucky had just started brushing his teeth, putting a dollop of some sort of mint toothpaste that promised magical results on the bristles, when he heard a faint voice. 

“Buck?” Steve called out softly from the bedroom, something almost cautious and concerned in his tone.

Feeling his eyebrows pinch together, Bucky called back to him, voice muffled around the toothbrush and foam, “Yeah, babe?”

“You almost done in there?” he asked, but this time, his voice had a sharper edge.

Bucky watched the lines appear on his forehead in the mirror when his brow furrowed even more. Steve never acted this pushy. Well, sometimes he did when the mood called for it, feeling frisky when hands started to wander during their after-dinner cuddle sessions, and Steve would take the authoritative role to suggest they move things upstairs. Or when Steve knew that Bucky had a particularly busy day at work, full of stressful meetings with less-than-kind clients, and during a break, Bucky would find a voicemail on his phone from a deep, gravelly voice instructing him to strip as soon as he got home and wait in bed, naked, for Steve to take care of him.

But tonight wasn’t one of those nights.

When Bucky offered to sink to his knees on the kitchen floor to keep Steve entertained while he stirred the spaghetti sauce on the stove, Steve politely declined, saying that he wasn’t in the mood – which was perfectly fine! Bucky was more than happy to share a PG-rated night-in, falling asleep at each other’s sides while they read the next few chapters of their respective books. (Steve swore that the nonfiction book on World War II submarines was absolutely riveting, while Bucky shamelessly indulged in some harlequin trash, definitely not imagining himself as the slutty-yet-respectable damsel, ample bosom tumbling out of her torn dress, and Steve as the broad-chested, broadsword-slinging, blonde hero on the cover.)

But as nice as those nights were, Bucky couldn’t imagine those submarines were the reason why Steve was rushing him to finish his bedtime routine.

Spitting out the mouthful of Optic White Renewal into the marble sink and tossing his toothbrush into the holder beside Steve’s, Bucky used the hair-tie around his wrist to toss the loose strands into a messy half-bun. “What’s up?” he asked, as he climbed onto the left side of the bed, never able to break their Love Island habits.

On his own side, Steve remained sitting up with his back pressed against the headboard, no book in sight, gaze transfixed on his hands clasped tightly over the sheets. Steve took in an uneasy breath and released it through a heavy sigh. “I need to talk to you about – something.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes and leaned closer, propping an elbow against the headboard to face him better. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

Steve stayed silent for a moment, as the pain evident in his clear blue eyes broke Bucky’s heart, but with another sigh, he finally lifted his head. “So, you know how I went to the eye doctor today for a check-up?” Trying to ignore the worry that flooded to the pit of his stomach, Bucky nodded. “Well, I actually scheduled it, because I’ve been having some, um – issues, I guess. For a few months now.”

At the dark feeling gnawing even deeper into his heart, Bucky refused to give in to the anxiety and instead offered Steve a supportive hand. Even though they hadn’t officially exchanged the Sickness and Health vow yet, Bucky was damn well prepared to support him, no matter what.

Steve accepted his hand with a lighter sigh, seeming to feel equally relaxed as soon as their fingers could be intertwined. He rubbed his thumb over the side of Bucky’s index finger, as he continued to explain himself. “Lately, I’ve been having some trouble with seeing things. On my laptop, especially, when I’m trying to do research, it’s been really hard to read the screen. Like, I know the words are there, but they’re blurry. When I blow up the text, it’s fine, but the amount that I have to zoom in is kinda ridiculous. I’ve never experienced anything like this before and it hasn’t gotten any better, so I made the appointment for today.”

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Bucky nodded. “Of course, Steve. What’d they say?”

Steve cleared his own throat, tightening his grasp on Bucky’s hand. “So, they, uh – they said it’s nothing to be too concerned about. It’s apparently normal for your vision to worsen with age, and for someone who spends so much time on the computer, it’s not too much of a stretch for it to happen while I’m still pretty young…ish.”

“O- _kay_?” Bucky felt the lines return on his forehead, only more confused by Steve’s explanation. “And is there anything they can do to – _help_ with that?”

Ducking his head, Steve nodded. “Yeah, I just need a little assistance to, uh, read.”

Teeth sinking into his bottom lip as the pieces of the puzzle clicked into place, Bucky needed a moment to compose himself and remember his patience. He did so by raising their clasped hands, giving each of Steve’s knuckles a gentle kiss, corners of his mouth quirking upward. “Steve? Darling. Dearest. Love of my life.”

At that, Bucky’s favorite shade of crystal blue finally peered up through his favorite set of golden lashes.

Bucky planted one last kiss on the back of his hand before continuing. “Did you really call me in here like that, scaring the ever-living shit out of me, just to tell me that you need _reading glasses?_ "

Steve rolled his eyes, while Bucky playfully shoved his side.

“Listen!” Steve began in an attempt to defend himself, but Bucky shook his head to cut him off.

“I was absolutely _terrified_ , Steve! Jesus, I thought you were dying, but, like, through your _eyes_ somehow!”

“I didn’t know! I thought I was dying _too!_ ”

Bucky snorted and leaned closer. “So, what? You need to get reading glasses now?”

Shoulders slumping, Steve admitted weakly, “I already got them.” He reached over to pull open the drawer to his nightstand, turning his back on Bucky in the process. “Promise me you won’t laugh,” he said in the exact tone he used before showing him his tattoo months before.

“Why would I laugh?” Bucky asked and immediately bit his lip when Steve turned around, eyes widening before he could stop them. “Ah. That’s why.”

Encasing his boyfriend’s beautiful eyes were clear and tiny oval-shaped lenses and thin, silver frames in a style so outdated that it was almost redeemed as ‘cool’ again by the hipster, thrift-store-haul bloggers. _Almost_.

Behind the ridiculous reading glasses, Steve rolled his eyes. “See, this is what I was scared of – I knew you’d hate them.”

“No!” Bucky cut him off, shaking his head. “I don’t hate them. I’m just–” At a loss for words, he marveled at the way the glasses added about fifty years to the man who was a model/bodybuilder/movie star/astronaut/politician in another life. “Were these the only pair they had available?”

In plentiful supply that evening, Steve gave another sigh. “No, I picked these.”

“Ah,” Bucky repeated, stifling a laugh. “Well…it’s a, uh – _bold?_ Choice. Certainly a choice.”

Steve swept his hands through his hair, a sign Bucky had learned meant he was frustrated and close to giving up. “Listen, I was stressed and tired and just grabbed the first ones I saw, because I was too terrified to think about what you’d really like best. I’m sorry–”

“Steve,” Bucky interrupted, clasping Steve’s hands in his own before they could tug at his hair again. Calmly, patiently, he explained, “I don’t care that you have to wear reading glasses now, and I don’t care about the style, the color, the _whatever_. I care about _you_. My boyfriend. And your kind heart and your brilliant mind and every wonderful thing you’ve brought to my life since the very first day we met. I love you, Steve, and everything about you – stupid reading glasses and all."

Bucky tapped the bridge of his glasses, bringing some life back to the baby blues beneath them, as Steve’s face crinkled, scrunching his nose, when he finally smiled.

For a moment, Steve simply stared at him the way that he did to make Bucky feel that he had said something truly profound. Pink lips slightly parted, eyes gleaming, radiating pure love and light in the swirling cerulean, flecks of green sparkling in the dim glow of the bedside lamp. It’s the look that still stirred butterflies in Bucky’s stomach, fluttering in a near panic, exactly as they did before exchanging their first kiss, sun shining overhead, blocking out the rest of the world as soon as their mouths met.

“What did I do to get so lucky to have you?” Steve asked, sounding a little breathless and snapping Bucky out of his reverie.

“ _Mm_ ,” Bucky hummed and rested his cheek against Steve’s bare shoulder. “I think it’s the abs.”

While Steve snorted, Bucky trailed his fingers down the center of his chest before slowly dragging them across the smooth, hard muscle along his stomach. “Oh yeah, definitely the abs.”

Steve scoffed but allowed his fingers to find their home in Bucky’s hair, drawing circles against his scalp in that sinful way that made Bucky forget his own name and fight the urge to purr. “So, once I lose the abs, it’s over?”

“Yup,” Bucky agreed immediately. “At least we had a good run.”

“Mhm. It’s fine if the eyes go but not the abs.”

“Well, yeah! God forbid you see _me_ getting gray and wrinkly.”

“Please,” Steve said, seemingly dropping the jokes and sounding genuinely sincere. “You’re going to look gorgeous when you go all-gray. My sexy silver fox.”

Bucky rolled his eyes but couldn’t deny the warm, tingly, and frankly _annoying_ sappy feeling that spread through his chest. “You sayin’ that we’re gonna grow old together then?”

“As long as you can tolerate the reading glasses,” Steve grumbled under his breath before pressing a quick kiss to Bucky’s cheek.

“I think I can tolerate the reading glasses,” Bucky said, dropping his own teasing and speaking honestly in the hopes that Steve would finally believe him. To seal the deal, he reached up to cup Steve’s jaw and guide their mouths together in a gentle, patient kiss. When they separated, Bucky reached over his beefy beast of a boyfriend to grab Steve’s book from his nightstand and then his phone from his own nightstand. “Now, you lay down so I can rest my head on your chest, while I scroll through Instagram and you tell me about those super interesting submarines.”

Steve grinned and did just that.

As soon as Steve settled back onto his pillows, Bucky’s head gravitated to its natural resting place on that smooth chest, lying at a slightly awkward angle, but feeling the vibrations of Steve’s deep baritone rumble beneath his ear made the tightness in his neck completely worth it. His voice was the perfect background noise Bucky needed for his mindless scrolling.

The whole social media thing still intimidated him, leaving him frankly baffled when he caught a glimpse of his follower count, having no idea why so many people cared so much about his seemingly-average, sometimes-boring daily life, but he was getting the hang of it. He caught up with some old college and law school buddies, checking in to see who was married and who had kids now. Obviously, he followed the new Love Island friends and ‘liked’ their sponsored posts, endorsed by whatever brand contacted them all that week and offered them free products and a nice check to pose with them.

As for his own posts, Bucky took part in his fair share of #Ad’s, often for all-natural hair care products or indie clothing brands, scattered among the updates about the house or cute pictures of Steve. (Which was every picture of Steve.)

Tonight, Bucky had a fairly specific idea in mind. Switching to his front camera, he sneakily angled the lens so that he could capture them both in the candid shot without catching Steve’s attention. His own gleaming, mischievous eyes filled the bottom third of the frame, while Steve and his old-timey, Dickensian reading glasses stole the focus of the photo that he posted to his story with a snicker. A sigh, breezing through Bucky’s hair and interrupting Steve’s natural rhythm as he spoke of those fascinating vessels, informed Bucky that he had been caught as he attached a poll to the image.

“They turned you into a monster,” Steve observed in a deadpan, nearly-disappointed tone, watching Bucky caption the Instagram poll over their selfie: _Boyfriend or Grandpa?_

***

Thor chose Grandpa.

As did Jane.

As did Carol, Val, the entire Love Island cast and crew, and a good majority of their followers.

Steve simply rolled his eyes and poured himself more champagne. “Aw, don’t be mad, babe,” Bucky said, sliding over to his side and wrapping an arm around his back. “We only joke, because we all secretly love the glasses.”

“Oh, I unironically adore the glasses,” Val said.

“Yeah,” Carol agreed with a nod. “I think they’re amazing.”

“Did you bring them?” Thor asked, sounding a bit too eager for Steve’s response.

With his arms crossed again, Steve sighed. “…Yes.”

His response was met with a chorus of additional _Yes!_ ’s, and Bucky supported Steve’s weight when he dropped his head down onto his shoulder.

Their saving grace came in the form of the door opening and Maria and Bruce stepping into the foyer. After the hugs and pleasantries, Maria brought the conversation back up. “So, why was everyone celebrating right before we walked in?”

“Oh, god,” Steve groaned and escaped to the champagne table again. This time, he poured glasses for the newcomers, and Bucky followed to help hand them out.

“Grandpa Rogers brought his glasses,” Carol announced gleefully.

“Excellent,” Maria said, and Bruce chuckled.

“It wasn’t enough for him to copy Thor’s beard, but he has to steal my glasses too?”

Steve actually shared a laugh at Bruce’s joke, handing him a champagne flute. Bucky offered one to Jane who shook her head with a polite smile and handed it to Thor, instead. The other glass went to Maria who used it to gesture to Steve and Bucky. “Hey, I think we’re allowed to tease you two after not only winning the season but getting your own reality show on top of that.”

Bucky hid his smile behind a generous sip of sparkling wine. It was true; that cat had long been let out of the bag when the network announced that the first Love Island spinoff, _Renovations of Love_ , would be airing in the spring. Bucky still remembered the shock he felt when he received the phone call from Jacques Dernier only a week after he returned home from filming the finale, telling him that they were interested in creating a new show that followed him and Steve as they moved into their first home. Depending on the ratings, the show would be a one-season special for just the two of them, but if it was a hit, the network would make it a series to follow along with every winning Love Island couple.

Dernier told him to talk it over with Steve, and if they were interested, after Steve made the move, they could meet the legal team in New York to negotiate the contract.

***

“Negotiate the contract! Stevie, you have no idea how huge this is! Do you know how many reality show contestants are allowed to negotiate their contract?”

Steve’s gentle laughter crackled through the phone. “I’m gonna go with…not many?”

“Zero! Absolutely no one gets to _negotiate_ their contract!”

“Guess we must be special then.”

The contract essentially boiled down to: Bucky and Steve take care of the house, and the network takes care of the renovations. “What’s the catch?” Bucky asked, easily spotting a deal that sounded too good to be true, while Steve flipped through the paperwork with his reading glasses perched preciously on his nose.

“Obviously, the whole process will be filmed, which means cameras will be installed in the house to record you throughout the entire day, as I’m sure you’re both already familiar with. Then, that footage will be edited down, of course, into the eight episodes, but listen,” one of the attorneys said, “the producers love you. The network loves you. Hell, the whole _world_ loves you. Everyone is dying to know where you two go from here, taking a glimpse into the lives of their favorite couple finally on their own, so you have nothing to worry about in terms of that edit possibly framing you in a negative light.”

Bucky nodded, appreciative of the honesty, and flipped to a specific page of the contract. “As for the renovations, what are we allowed to ask for?”

The lawyer sat back and allowed Dernier to take the lead on that question. On the edge of his seat, he leaned toward them with a smirk. “Anything.”

“ _Anything?_ ” Bucky repeated in a whisper to Steve after leaving the meeting.

“That’s what I heard,” Steve whispered back in a similar state of disbelief as they walked down the hallway.

They kept their composure until the doors of the elevator closed, and Bucky immediately launched himself at Steve, wrapping his arms around his neck. Steve lifted him with ease and spun them in circles as they both laughed and screamed hysterically. When the elevator dinged only a few floors down, however, they quickly separated and moved to the back to accommodate the serious-looking businessmen. They spent the rest of the ride trying (and failing) to contain their giggles behind their hands, coughing and blushing, before continuing their celebration on the street.

(“Anything” truly came with an asterisk that read, “within reason,” but Bucky was already picturing his future golden, work-of-art bathtub.)

***

“We are very, very fortunate,” Bucky told the group, while Steve slipped an arm around his waist.

Maria leaned into Bruce’s side and nodded with a grin. “We all are.”

The others agreed by raising their glasses, exchanging glances with their partners, and sharing the moment.

“Hello, hello,” a voice called as the door creaked open.

“Hey!” everyone else chorused when Scott and Hope stepped inside.

They worked their way around the room, giving everyone hugs, and Bucky remembered how much he missed seeing Scott’s youthful smile and Hope’s confident grace every day. “How are you two doing?”

“Doing amazing, thanks,” Hope said while squeezing Bucky’s back. “How are you and Steve?”

“Likewise,” Bucky said, glancing at him and Scott beside them. “Absolutely amazing.”

“What’ve you been up to, man? Working on your own docs, right?” Scott asked Steve, who nodded.

“Yeah, yeah. I mean, after leaving the show and moving back home, I’ve been taking things slow to do a lot of research first and be a good househusband to this handsome guy.” Bucky chuckled when Steve nudged his arm with his elbow, unable to deny how much he loved coming home to Steve wearing a tomato-sauce-splattered apron and haphazardly stirring something on the stove. “But I did get a really exciting message from an old college friend who’s looking for a partner to investigate a tip on illegal exotic animal trading rings across the country. Could make a really fascinating documentary.”

While they nodded along, Bucky gave a shrug after recognizing the expression in Scott and Hope’s eyes as somewhat confused but still humoring him, most likely looking the exact same way when Steve relayed this information to him for the first time. “I think it’ll be a hit,” he said, trusting Steve’s vision wholeheartedly.

“Sounds good to me,” Scott said, and Hope offered them both a smile.

“Here’s hoping we’ll see you at the Oscars next year, Steve.”

Steve ducked his head when they moved on to hug Jane and Thor, and Bucky dragged him over to the table to pour glasses of champagne for Scott and Hope, feeling that it was their duty now. When they rejoined the group, Scott was telling the others that Cassie was staying with his parents. “Our first time being this far away from her since July.”

Resting a hand on his arm, Hope nodded. “I know she can’t be in safer hands, but I haven’t been able to shake this nervous feeling since getting on the plane. God, I just love her so much,” Hope said through a laugh, shaking her head.

Bucky’s heart swelled at her words, seeing clearly through the blush on her cheeks how strong their bond had formed in such a short amount of time, which – in a way – summarized the relationships that they had all formed. Something deep, something almost spiritual, something that just _made sense_ from the very beginning.

In the middle of Hope telling the others how they had taken Cassie on a weekend trip to the beach, the next couple arrived. “Angie!” the group greeted her with as she stepped into the foyer alongside, “Peggy!”

Angie shivered off the cold, shaking the snowflakes from her fluffy, white jacket and brandishing her own bottle of liquor with a ribbon tied around the top. Literally. Her own bottle of licensed, raspberry-lemonade-flavored _Cartinelli_ vodka with her and Peggy’s likenesses in the form of pinup drawings on the label. “Just in case we want to turn this into a real party,” she said with a wink, earning a few cheers.

Beside her girlfriend, Peggy looked beyond beautiful in a forest-green, velvet dress, elegant and practically regal, with her auburn hair curled flawlessly in a classic style and her signature red lipstick. Bucky greeted her with a warm hug. “You look gorgeous, Peg. I love your dress.”

She brushed off his compliment with a humble chuckle, holding onto his hands when they pulled apart. “And you look as stunning as ever. The last time we saw each other was – what? The podcast?”

Bucky nodded. “Our most popular episode.”

***

A few weeks after the finale, Bucky made good on his promise to start a podcast with Riley. Neither of them had any idea what they were doing, but they both had microphones, headphones, and a regularly-scheduled Skype meeting, which was as good a place to start as any. Their listeners wanted to hear them talk about their lives and their boyfriends and the show and just about anything else, so that’s what they did. Turns out two reality show winners chatting about anything under the sun for an hour could be a hit.

_Who knew?_

In addition to their own episodes, they had been working their way through the Season 11 roster, interviewing their fellow ex-competitors and current friends, and the listeners were eager to hear Bucky and Peggy ‘hash it out.’ Despite the months that had passed since any bad blood had been laid to rest, months of being perfectly content with their respective partners, certain media outlets missed the message and preferred to fuel a narrative of animosity that didn’t exist.

Still, Peggy happily accepted the invitation to record an episode, and Bucky smiled when she joined the video call – all three of them able to join from their own homes, ready to set the record straight.

“What’s up, everyone! I’m one half of your favorite couple, Bucky Barnes.”

“And I’m one half of your second favorite couple, Riley Jones, soon-to-be Wilson.”

“And welcome back to our podcast, _Can We Speak To Your Manager?_ ” they shouted into their mics at the same time in a voice that got whinier and more obnoxious each week.

“This week!” Riley announced, returning to his usual southern drawl. “We have a very special guest with us…America’s favorite homewrecker, Peggy Carter!”

Peggy laughed at the introduction they discussed beforehand, and they spent the rest of the episode having a bubbly and friendly, while still serious and complex dialogue about their relationship on the show. After everyone had the opportunity to watch their season, Peggy spoke candidly about the production process and the ‘villain edit’ she received when she was introduced, consisting of the editors picking and choosing scenes and lines out of context to frame her as the bad guy. Bucky offered his own perspective of those few days, sharing his ignorance of the process and admitting his own faults, afraid of opening up his heart back then.

At the end, they openly discussed that regardless of what a few choice tabloids had to say, Peggy and Bucky were friends and both with the people they were meant to be with all along – Hydra Reporter be damned.

***

“Most popular episode until you get this gent on the show,” Peggy said, giving Steve a hug next.

Bucky chuckled but shook his head; they were saving the Steve and Sam episodes until the end.

At the end of their receiving line of warm embraces, Carol mentioned how nice it was to see Peggy on TV, still working as an analyst on MSNBC.

“Yeah, how’s work been after coming back from Love Island?” Val asked.

“Well, the colleagues were thrilled to hear about Angie,” Peggy said, slipping her hand in the crook of her girlfriend’s elbow, “but as you all know, it was also an election year. So, I was pretty busy, jumping right back into that hectic world, and I’d say those results are absolutely something we can all cheers to.”

Bucky proudly joined in the raucous applause with the rest of the entire group, because that news was certainly something worthy of popping the second bottle of champagne.

After glasses were refilled and handed out to the newcomers, a hush fell over the group when the door cracked open again. They held their breaths, peeking around each other on their tiptoes, to see a single woman walk into the foyer.

Wanda laughed along with the others when Thor immediately ran over to her, lifted her in the air, and spun her around. “Nice to see you too,” she said through a wide grin.

Once her heels and the bottom of her red, glittery dress returned to the floor, the others surrounded her in a group hug, just as they did when she announced her decision to leave the show. With thirteen people now crowded into the space, conversation became muddled, especially as they all peppered her with questions, asking how she’s been, what she’s been doing, and if she’s been seeing anyone.

She smiled and addressed them one by one. “Doing really well. It’s been unreal seeing all the love I’ve gotten from the show, since I pushed myself so far out of my comfort zone there.”

Knowing exactly how she felt, Bucky nodded, catching Jane agreeing too.

“I’ll admit it’s been nice having a chance to escape to my coding bubble again,” Wanda continued, faintly blushing while raising her champagne flute to her painted lips. “I’m not currently dating anyone, but I do have an exciting announcement to make.”

With that lead-up, everyone leaned forward as she seemingly recalled her Love Island experience, pausing for effect before saying, “I’m going to be the next Bachelorette!”

Everyone gasped and cheered for her, including Bucky, because even though he had never seen an episode, he knew that being chosen as the star of that show was quite the accomplishment. Beside him, Steve shook his head as he smiled, and Bucky caught a glint in his eyes that meant he knew something the others didn’t. “What?” Bucky asked.

“Dernier’s husband is an executive producer for the show,” Steve explained, “which airs on the rival network.”

Bucky grinned and leaned against his side. “Ooh, a little friendly competition.”

Steve smirked. “Oh, no. With those two, going tit for tat every season when it comes to ratings and Emmy noms, that competition is anything but friendly.”

Speaking of someone with a bitter competitive streak, Bucky turned his attention to the door, knowing that one of two remaining couples would be walking through, and saw Miss Natalia Romanov, herself.

Nat had her brilliant red hair tied back in a French braid, and she wore a horribly-clashing green sweater with strings of lights wrapped around it that periodically flashed off and on. Behind her, the reason for this affront to fashion stepped inside with his blonde hair peeking out of his elf hat, as he wore the matching, flashing sweater in red – always her class clown, Clint.

Unlike the others, Bucky and Steve saw them almost every week for their double dates. (Clint hadn’t ‘officially’ made the move to New York yet, but with the Barton Big Top Fun Time Show announcing a new enterprise in the city, Nat was bookmarking larger apartments on Zillow.) With both couples, they saw movies together and then went to dinner to talk about the movies. Nat took them to the ice cream shop where she and Clint went on their first date, sampling every obscure flavor in miniature scoops, and Steve brought them to the pizza shop where he washed dishes in high school. When they didn’t feel like going out, they stayed in and played board games that _definitely did not_ get too competitive.

After making their way around the room, Nat and Clint stopped in front of Bucky and Steve, who handed them their glasses of champagne which they gratefully accepted. “Long time, no see,” Clint said, pulling Steve in for a quick hug.

Steve chuckled. “Last Wednesday wasn’t enough for you guys, huh?”

“The board’s still set up when you two are ready to finish that game of Monopoly,” Nat said, narrowing her eyes at Bucky.

While Clint and Steve groaned, Bucky scoffed. “Sure. Whenever you’re ready to admit to _cheating_.”

***

“That is not how you play this game!” Bucky shouted, finally raising his voice after over an hour of complaints made under his breath. “You can’t just make a deal with Clint to pawn off all your shit when you’re in the middle of going bankrupt to me!”

“Why not?” Nat countered. “How is this any different than when you traded the railroads with Steve to get Boardwalk before landing on my hotels?”

“Because that was _before_ my turn! Not in the _middle_ of a turn!”

“Doesn’t matter!”

“Yes, it does!”

“Says who?”

“Says the fucking rules, Nat!”

As Bucky and Nat rose from their chairs, crumpling orange and pink play-money in their hands, Steve slowly scooted away from the table. “Need another beer, Clint?”

With his bottle three-quarters of the way full, Clint nodded. “Sure do, Steven.”

While their boyfriends hid in the kitchen, Bucky and Nat argued for another thirty minutes before throwing down their fake dollars and deciding to continue when one could finally admit that the other was wrong.

***

The board would presumably remain on Nat’s dining room table, collecting dust, until the end of time.

“I’ll admit I cheated when you admit you cheated,” Nat said before taking a sip of champagne.

“Oh, let’s not do this here…” Clint said and took a much larger sip.

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Such a sore loser. God, you have not changed at all since we were eight-years-old, have you?”

Glancing around the room, Steve rested a hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “I think I have to agree with Clint on this one.”

Before Nat could gloat about her perceived victory and Bucky could lunge at her, the door opened, and excitement stirred for the final couple. The group was already applauding when Sam joined the foyer, looking as handsome as ever in a maroon sweater and bringing his friendly-as-ever grin. Everyone swarmed him, of course, ready to be swept into one of his award-winning hugs.

“Yes!” Val cheered when Steve and Thor reached him at the same time, dapping up. “The boys are back together.”

Bucky laughed and accepted his own hug from Sam. Glancing over his shoulder to see the door remaining closed, Bucky couldn’t help but ask the question that had to be on everyone’s mind. “Where’s Riley?”

Sam grinned as they pulled apart. “What? Am I not good enough for you?”

“Eh, you’re alright,” Bucky said, giving him an exaggerated shrug before letting his smile break through the exterior. “Seriously, though, where’s your fiancé?”

“I don’t know actually. We didn’t come together – and not in a bad way!” Sam quickly threw in after hearing a gasp from one of the others. “I assumed he’d already be here.”

While everyone looked between themselves, Bucky tried to keep his heart from plummeting in his chest, an inherent disposition to fear the worst. The snow outside had only started to fall harder, and the sky had only gotten darker, now a striking indigo with pinpricks of white stars. Bucky remembered the winding, rural road, and even though they were driven by professionals, accidents happen, right? He knew it was an irrational fear taking over, but the concerned faces on the others seemed to make it more of a reality. There was no way that–

“Did I hear somebody was looking for their Angel?”

Bucky joined the others in gasping and turning on their heels to find Riley suspended in the air in front of the second stairway on the right, hovering above them. As they had long grown accustomed to, he wore a long, lace wrap over a flowing, white gown with feather wings sprouting from his back. Like Bucky, Riley kept his hair past his shoulders but added a few streaks of pink into the platinum blonde.

“Ignore the wires,” he said as he slowly began to be lowered down to the foyer. “I was told that they would be edited out in post.”

The others cheered and applauded while he continued his descent, throwing out snowflake-shaped confetti and gliding effortlessly past the tree, thanks to the mechanical assistance. (Bucky didn’t question where the wires were coming from or how they were working, allowing that detail to remain a Christmas miracle.)

When he reached the floor, Sam was the first to greet him, helping him slip out of the angel wings and planting a kiss on his lips.

“Well, that’s one way to make an entrance,” Scott said, and the others agreed with another round of applause.

Bucky greeted Riley next, who squealed and held him close. “Hello, my love!”

It hadn’t been the first time they had seen each other since filming the show. After coming home from the villa, Riley took a weekend trip to New York after receiving an offer to model with Bucky for the cover of an up-and-coming fashion magazine, making it their first appearance since the finale. Becca happily directed the photographs for her own magazine, showing off some of their signature outfits from the show, and Riley shared his modelling expertise, telling Bucky precisely how to position his arm and arch his back to get the perfect angles. Turns out in addition to being a successful lawyer, building his own practice, winning a reality show, and finding the love of his life, Bucky could be a pretty decent model too.

_Who knew?_

“God, I’ve missed you so much,” Bucky said, resting his head against his chest, reminded of the half a foot that Riley had over him. “You look as spectacular as always.”

“Aw! Why, thank you, sugarplum.”

Bucky laughed and stepped back. “How long have you been here?”

“Oh, I got here way early to get fitted for that nonsense,” Riley said and nodded toward the wires from his stunt, “and I’ve been waiting in me and Sammie’s room on the opposite side of the house as yours. So, yes, I was here to watch you and your boo do your little house tour, and yes, it was adorable.”

Imagining Riley peeking over the railing as their voices carried around the empty space, Bucky didn’t need to look to know that Steve was blushing.

Once everyone received their own squeal and hug and once Riley and Sam received their own complimentary champagne, all seventeen of them stood in a circle around the foyer. “Is this everyone?” Thor asked.

Steve did a quick headcount, quickly snapping back into producer mode. “Yeah, I think this is everyone.”

Confirming that fact, they welcomed the final five arrivals as the actual producers walked down the stairs, presumably coming out of their own hiding spaces on the second floor. In the center, Jones took the lead. “Welcome back, Islanders, and welcome to the Love Island 2020 Holiday Reunion!”

Everyone cheered, just as they did for all the parties, after all the challenge wins, and at the grand finale.

“This weekend is all about hanging out and relaxing in this gorgeous house, getting into the holiday spirit and giving the audience an opportunity to catch up with their favorite Islanders. Except for Brock who couldn’t make it.”

No one reacted at first, as Bucky kept himself from letting out a scoff and the others shifted their weight. Finally, saying what they were all thinking, Sam broke the awkward silence. “Damn, what a shame.”

After the others either successfully or unsuccessfully stifled their laughter, Jones continued. “Tonight and tomorrow is all gonna be pretty laidback. You’ll chill tonight and go to bed whenever you want, and in the morning, you’ll wake up on your own, make breakfast if you want, and then open your presents from the show. In the afternoon, you’ll prep the big dinner, and when you’re all stuffed of turkey, we’ll drive you back to the airport so we can all celebrate the season back home.”

“As for us,” he said, looking around at his fellow producers, “we’ll be around if you need us, but otherwise, we’ll only interact if something goes wrong.”

Bucky nodded along with the other Islanders.

When no one had any questions or comments, Dum Dum stepped forward with a new take on his usual message. “Have fun. Don’t get too drunk, don’t hurt yourselves, and don’t burn down the house.”

As the others laughed and continued to mingle, Bucky watched Steve greet his old coworkers and friends. With the five of them producing the new show too, Bucky had gotten used to seeing them in and around their home, leading their personal interviews or directing the scripted material, and had even gotten close enough to call them his friends, as well.

***

“Whenever you’re ready, Mr. Barnes.”

Bucky tucked a strand of hair behind his ear and looked directly into the lens, pretending to be surprised as he sat on the couch in his living room and reading from the teleprompter. “Oh, hi. Haven’t seen you in a while. My name is Bucky Barnes, and the last time you saw me, you declared my boyfriend and me the winners of Love Island 2020. Since then, our relationship has never been stronger. We’ve moved into a beautiful home together, making it our own, which you can see in the first season of _Renovations of Love_ , airing in the spring. Now, I spend every day with my soulmate. Every morning, I wake up beside the love of my life, and every night, I fall asleep beside – alright, which one of you wrote this sappy bullshit? Falsworth?”

“Contract hire,” he said, raising his hands in defense. “Don’t blame us.”

Knowing that he truly couldn’t complain after all of the beautiful improvements they planned to make to their home, Bucky rolled his eyes and tried not to gag through the script.

***

Given the ‘okay’ to go off on their own, the group did as Steve predicted and moved from the foyer to the first seating area. Spreading out around the fire, they filled up the couches and chairs, even sitting on cushions on the floor. Bucky cozied up beside Steve on one of the loveseats, and Steve slipped his arm around Bucky’s shoulders as he pulled the flannel blanket across their laps.

After finishing off the champagne, Bruce and Maria explored the kitchen to put together a second round of drinks and returned with two trays. “Who wants hot chocolate, and who wants eggnog?”

Steve sighed when Bucky reached for the eggnog tray. “So disappointing,” he said, shaking his head.

“Not my fault your taste buds are basic,” Bucky replied, side-eyeing Steve’s mug of hot chocolate that frankly looked fantastic, topped with whipped cream and chocolate shavings, but he would never admit to that during one of their teasing-competitive spats.

Steve smiled as he took his first sip, light from the fire sparkling in his eyes. When he pulled the mug away, a smidgeon of whipped cream clung to his mustache, and Bucky’s heart panged at the sight. He leaned forward on instinct to kiss it off, but Steve pulled away. “Oh, no. You’re not kissing me with eggnog on your breath.”

“Oh, yeah?” Bucky asked through a gasp. “So, I’m not allowed to kiss you all night?”

“Nope.”

“Is that so?”

“Yup.”

Narrowing his eyes, Bucky hummed and lowered his voice. “Not even if I happened to bring an early present for you to unwrap tonight?”

“ _Well_ ,” Steve said with a smirk, immediately changing his tone, “in that case, I might be able to make an exception.”

Rather than nuzzling his face against Steve’s neck as he intended, Bucky found himself flinching away from the throw pillow that smacked against his legs. He looked over to see Nat with her arms crossed on the end of the couch beside them. “Tone it down, lovebirds.”

They blushed, reminded that they weren’t alone in their house anymore but surrounded by their friends, and settled into their seats to join the group conversation.

“I don’t know about you guys,” Hope said, “but I am so glad that all of us were on the same season together.”

“Oh, absolutely,” Val agreed, warming her hands around her mug of cocoa. “I can’t imagine doing this with any other people. This was destiny.”

The others agreed with nods and grins.

“Easily the craziest but most rewarding experience of my life,” Sam said next with his arm wrapped around Riley, and from there, they launched into favorite memories from the summer.

Bucky remembered the nerves buzzing in the pit of his stomach as they spoke of the first episode, having never felt more out of place, and he recalled the first moment he meant the man who would become his everything without any idea of how important he would be.

“Remember the superhero challenge?”

Bucky laughed and tried not to cringe. An amazing moment, of course, but one slightly embarrassing to relive on screen – which was a decent way to summarize his experiences on Love Island as a whole. Just like returning to the villa from Casa Amor. Like playing charades on Steve’s birthday. (And Steve’s birthday in general.) Throwing “pie” in each other’s faces and then throwing “drinks” in each other’s faces.

“Oh, the prom!”

That memory felt more bittersweet, forcing Bucky to only give a half-smile. The prom was one of the first evenings when they truly felt like one family, moving and sweating together on the dance floor, exchanging partners with ease. That was the night when Bucky finally found the courage to confess his true feelings for Steve, setting their relationship back on track, but that night was also a reminder of why they were separated in the first place. A reminder of one of the many hurdles they had to overcome, and instead of smoothly jumping over it, they tripped, flailed in the air, and fell face-first onto the track, left alone with scrapes and bruises. Of course, they continued to run the race and finished strong at the finish line, but it took a lot of work to get there and the memories were sometimes a reminder of those difficult times.

But then there were so many happier memories.

“Is anyone else still dreaming about their final date?”

Grinning, Bucky leaned further against Steve. He could still taste every gourmet course and hear each note of the piano and harp’s twinkling melodies. He felt certain that heaven consisted of lazily spinning in circles on the dance floor, leaning against each other, wrapped in each other’s arms for all of eternity. Their own redo of the prom – yeah, that was a good memory.

“For the record,” Val said, sitting forward on the couch, “I have been in the near vicinity of bumblebees since being home, and Carol can vouch for me that I did not run away or scream this time.”

With a playful smirk, Carol shrugged. “She only screamed a little bit.”

As Val gasped, pretending to take offense to her girlfriend’s betrayal, Sam nudged Thor on the loveseat across from Steve and Bucky’s. “What about you? Have you taken your lovely lady surfing again?”

“Oh, yes,” Thor said and beamed at Jane, who was starting to nod off beside him with her hands clasped over her stomach as she clutched an extra-plush blanket. “She’s a natural.”

“Have you been on a hot air balloon since the show?” Steve asked Sam.

“Oh, _hell_ no,” Riley answered for him, earning a few laughs. “Don’t get me wrong. It was absolutely beautiful, but I still have nightmares about lookin’ over the ledge. I swear my heart is still racing.”

“Ooh,” Nat said and tossed a sly glance in Bucky’s direction. “Let’s talk about the heartrate monitor challenge, shall we?”

That comment turned everyone’s attention toward Bucky, who suddenly felt his face turn the color of his sweater.

Clint shook his head with a grin. “Man, I wasn’t even there, but watching that episode, I swear I felt my heart _stop_ when you walked down those stairs. I don’t know how the rest of you are alive. Steve, my guy, how the hell are _you_ alive?”

“Trust me,” Steve said, setting his sights on Bucky alone, “my heart stops every morning I wake up beside this man. So gorgeous I don’t know how he’s real or how the hell I got so lucky to call him mine.”

The crackling of the fire dwindling down filled the silence that followed Steve’s comment. Then, at the same time, the others snorted and scoffed. “Sap!” someone called out, stealing Bucky’s favorite word.

“Yeah, okay, that was a little much even for me,” Steve admitted before dropping his voice with his chin resting on Bucky’s shoulder. “I meant every word, though. I love you.”

Pressing their foreheads together, Bucky whispered back, “Love you too.”

Apparently, his whisper wasn’t quiet enough, because when they turned to face the group again, everyone joined in yelling, “Sap!”

They all laughed it off and returned to sharing favorite moments from the show, because the discussion would truly be incomplete without bringing up the dreaded-slash-beloved baby challenge. Bucky shivered just thinking about it. But that challenge transitioned into meeting each other’s families and setting up plans for the future, which culminated in the grand finale. No matter where they placed in the end, whether they were in the villa or at home, each couple had happy feelings regarding that particular moment, because it brought them all here to the reunion.

After the fire had died down to glowing embers and they had reached the bottom of their mugs, conversation naturally slowed into companionable silence.

Yawning, Bucky slipped a hand beneath the blanket to rest gently on Steve’s thigh. Steve subtly cocked an eyebrow, and Bucky shrugged, keeping his hand still. Thor and Jane excused themselves to get ready for bed, soon followed by Hope and Scott and Peggy and Angie. The others stretched out and chatted in low tones with Val, Carol, Bruce, and Maria surrounding Wanda, while Sam and Riley volunteered to clean up the mugs. Bucky smiled at Nat and Clint who appeared off in their own world, making each other giggle on the couch with their matching lit-up sweaters.

With no one else paying attention, Bucky took the liberty of starting to move his hand, tracing small circles on the denim. Steve noticeably swallowed when he nonchalantly moved to his inner thigh and relaxed his features. He technically wasn’t doing anything wrong, especially with the blanket hiding the movement, but still, there was something so illicit in creeping tantalizingly close to Steve’s zipper in front of their friends.

Steve sucked in a silent breath when Bucky just barely grazed his crotch, and Bucky couldn’t help but smirk. Reaching up to press his lips against the shell of Steve’s ear, Bucky whispered, “Now, what would you say about going to bed?”

“Goodnight, everyone,” Steve said immediately, addressing the group.

The others waved or gave an automatic response without turning their heads, meaning they had gotten away with it.

Bucky chased Steve up the stairs with a devious grin.

🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄

If Bucky learned one thing from his experience on Love Island, it was how to be confident in his body. He kind of had to be to pull off an outfit like this.

Looking into the bathroom mirror, Bucky smoothed out the flared skirt of the dress, running his hands along the bright red velvet. Feathery, white fluff lined the edge of the skirt, as well as the heart-shaped neckline and off-the-shoulder sleeves. A black belt with a gold buckle around his waist sold the Santa imagery, and the thigh-high, sheer black stockings sold the cheap slut imagery. His favorite patent-leather pumps – a pair he splurged on with his half of the prize money – completed the outfit, giving him an extra boost of confidence in addition to the added height. The red soles happened to match perfectly with the dress.

He twirled and chuckled to himself, thinking about how terrified he would have been to attempt to wear something like this only a year ago. Since the show, he had received numerous offers from boutique lingerie shops, offering free sets in exchange for a social media plug, and well, he couldn’t exactly say no, could he?

If he flooded his Instagram profile with thirst traps, so be it.

He looked stunning in lace, and he loved it.

So did Steve.

Pushing back his hair, Bucky admired the way that the new product he had been trying brought out his natural waves and curls, accentuating the volume and leaving the silky strands smelling like coconut. To add one final detail, he leaned forward and spread the red wax across his lips. Riley absolutely adored the lipstick, and Bucky quite liked it too, particularly the imprints it left on Steve’s body, smeared all over his ivory skin.

He rubbed his lips together and swiped away a bit of excess at the corners, because he wasn’t perfect at this yet but more than willing to learn. Propping a hand on his hip, he lowered his lashes at his reflection and slightly pouted his lips the same way that he did for the photoshoots – which was a wild thought. His life had become a hectic whirlwind of, dare he say, celebrity status, but keeping him grounded, without any fear of the attention and press, was one person who meant the world to him.

Steve sat poised in one of the armchairs beside the fireplace, wearing his cute, little glasses to read a book (or at least pretend to read one.) Orange flames flickered against the red brick, crackling and roaring to life, meaning that he had successfully finished the task that Bucky assigned to him in starting the fire and filling the room with a warm, golden glow.

Bucky leaned against the doorframe, crossing his right leg over his left to extend the lines of his body and waiting for Steve to notice him. He did so almost instantly. Lowering his book, Steve gawked at him, mouth agape and eyes wide. “Oh, fuck.”

This moment of shock was Bucky’s favorite part of dressing up. He smiled, suppressing a giggle at the way his boyfriend’s eyes darted over him as if it was the very first time they had seen each other in an intimate manner. “See something you like?” Bucky asked in a coy tone, pitch shifted up to give the illusion of innocence as he twirled a strand of hair around his index finger.

Tossing the book aside, Steve hummed and crooked a finger to beckon him over. “Sweetheart, I see something I _love_.”

Bucky pressed a hand over his heart and sauntered over to him, heels tapping rhythmically against the hardwood floor. “You’re too kind.”

As Bucky laid his hands on his shoulders and sank down onto his lap, Steve shook his head. “What’s the occasion?”

“This is our first vacation, isn’t it?” Bucky asked, straddling Steve’s hips on the chair.

“Is it?” Steve replied, clearly distracted while caressing the soft velvet.

“Well, it’s our first vacation since our _first_ vacation,” Bucky explained and tried not to get distracted, himself, fighting off the urge to rut against Steve’s thighs. “Remember the one where we met and got together, and because we’re stupid, go out of being together, but then got back together and became boyfriends and fell in love and met each other’s families and decided to move in together. Y’know, _that_ one?”

“Hm,” Steve hummed again, slipping his fingers into the belt to tug Bucky forward and press their chests together. “Sounds vaguely familiar.”

Smelling the delectable chocolate on Steve’s breath, still tasting a hint of spice, Bucky took a deep inhale, savoring it with a satisfied grin before leaning in even closer, pressing his lips to Steve’s ear as he did in the living room. “It’s also the one where I gave you the best blowjob of your life on my knees in the shower like a whore, and then you fucked me into the mattress on those silk sheets, filling me up while I begged for more from my _Daddy_.”

“Ah.” Somehow, Steve found the ability to feign a modicum of composure, even as his cheeks burned a red as vibrant as the brick beside them. “Now, it’s ringing a bell.”

Bucky chuckled, leaning back to settle more comfortably on Steve’s knees and dropping the act. “Yeah, well, I’m giving you an open invitation to ring _my_ bell, so let’s get on with the show, pal.”

Steve’s dark laughter sounded as smooth as the velvet. “You know what they say: every time a bell rings, a Riley gets his wings.”

Giving an ugly snort at that terrible joke, Bucky shook his head. “Maybe don’t bring up Riley right before I ride you on the rug in front of the fire.”

“Oh, is that what you’re gonna do?”

“Mhm, if I’m allowed.”

“ ’Course you’re allowed, sugar,” Steve murmured against his lips, reaching around to press his large hands against Bucky’s back, feeling the exposed skin.

Bucky took that as his cue to lean back in and finally capture Steve’s mouth in a searing kiss. He parted his lips immediately, letting Steve in and allowing him to take control, while he carefully took off Steve’s reading glasses and placed them on the end table beside him. Wrapping his arms around Steve’s neck, Bucky sighed into the kiss as Steve slid a hand up his smooth thigh beneath the skirt. Steve made an appreciative noise, nipping Bucky’s bottom lip, when his fingers reached the scalloped-lace edges of his black, satin panties.

“These are going to be destroyed by the time I’m done with you,” Steve said, voice as deep as a growl, with a fistful of satin.

When Steve continued to move his hands backward, grabbing his ass, Bucky gasped and leaned into his embrace, seeing sparks behind his closed eyes. He opened them to find Steve smirking up at him, lips smeared red and hair mussed and already looking positively _wrecked_. “You want me to get you ready, baby?” he asked before stealing Bucky’s breath again with another kiss.

Feeling his legs start to quiver, Bucky shook his head when they pulled apart. “You don’t have to.”

“Of course, I have to–” Steve began to protest with a grin, and with his own grin, Bucky watched the exact moment that it clicked in Steve’s mind why he didn’t have to prep him, eyes widening. “You didn’t.”

Bucky gave him a demure shrug but couldn’t help the needy whine that escaped his throat when Steve confirmed his assumptions by tapping the tapered end of the plug through his underwear.

“Sweetheart…” Steve said through a sigh, pure fondness in his eyes. “How long have you had this in?”

As Steve continued to toy with the plug, gently shifting it inside of him, Bucky groaned and collapsed forward, needing to hold onto his shoulders to support himself. “ _Ungh_ – before the, uh, car ride.”

Steve raised his eyebrows but didn’t stop nudging the plug until it brushed against the bundle of nerves that shot a spark of electric up Bucky’s spine. “All afternoon?”

Bucky nodded and gasped when Steve hit that spot again. He thought of all the times over the past few hours that he accidentally bumped that spot, himself. Crossing his legs in the car turned out to be a mistake, and he had to hide his gasp behind his hand, spending the rest of the hour-long ride staring out the window to keep his mind busy. Standing around the foyer with the others had been a great distraction, but sitting in the living room with them, under a blanket beside Steve, only reminded him of how desperately he wanted to grind against his seat.

Now, Bucky shamelessly shoved himself back against Steve’s hands, letting out breathy moans freely while slipping his hands beneath Steve’s sweater to grasp the hard muscle. “Been aching for you all day, Stevie. I need you so fucking bad.”

Getting the hint, Steve crashed their mouths together and lifted his arms so that Bucky could peel his sweater off, breaking the kiss briefly to pull it off his head and toss it to the side. They both reached for the button of Steve’s jeans and only managed to tangle their hands instead of making any real progress. Steve chuckled against his mouth. “Eager, huh? Thought you wanted to do this on the rug? Taking advantage of the fireplace we don’t have at home, right?”

Bucky groaned but nodded, admitting with a sigh, “Mm, yeah, I know.”

“Then, how ‘bout I finish getting undressed, while you get down on the floor and show me how ready you are?”

_Fuck_ , that sounded good, and Bucky didn’t need to be told twice. “Yes, sir.”

After one final less-than-gentle tap against the plug, Bucky slid off of Steve’s lap, legs somewhat shaky when his heels touched the floor. Stepping backward onto the faux-fur rug, he watched Steve slowly undo his zipper before pausing and cocking an eyebrow, as if waiting for Bucky to do more. He sank to the floor and sat facing Steve with his high heels planted firmly on the hardwood, knees bent, to spread his legs wide. While Steve pushed his pants down to his knees, Bucky lifted the dress and hooked his thumbs into the panties, playing with the waistband before shoving them down his stockinged legs. Once they reached his ankles, he slipped one foot out and used the other to kick them into the air.

Annoyingly athletic, Steve caught them with one hand, and Bucky grinned. “If you’re a good boy, I’ll let you keep them,” he said, maintaining eye contact as he ran a hand up his thigh, resisting the urge to touch himself until Steve moved first.

Steve smirked and balled up the skimpy material, bringing it to his face to inhale deeply and making Bucky gasp, before he tossed the panties in the same direction as his sweater. His pants and socks soon joined the pile, and he waited for Bucky to take his turn next, standing proud in only his favorite Calvin Klein boxer-briefs.

Ignoring his freed erection and staring up at Steve, Bucky gripped the end of the plug and slowly, carefully, gave it a gentle tug. He held his breath, as Steve appeared to do the same, when the widest part stretched his rim and breathed out through a sigh when he pulled out the rest of the plug. “Oh, fuck,” Bucky whispered, feeling so empty for the first time in hours and immediately craving something to fill him again.

He eyed exactly what he wanted when Steve palmed himself through his underwear before pushing them down and allowing his erection to spring free. Bucky’s mouth instantly watered at the sight of Steve stroking his gorgeous cock, wanting to lick off the bead of precome that formed or run his tongue along the veins on the underside or suck his balls into his mouth until they dripped with spit.

“You still want to ride me?” Steve asked, stepping out of the boxer-briefs and snapping Bucky out of his fantasies.

Bucky feared for a moment that he had given himself whiplash with how fast he nodded his head. “Please.”

As Steve joined him on the rug, Bucky reached for the bottle of lube, strategically placed nearby, and slicked up two fingers. Steve gazed at him in awe as Bucky fully slid a finger inside himself with ease. He bit his bottom lip when he added the second, hardly feeling any resistance. “Oh, look how open I am for you, baby,” he said through a breathy moan, adding a shake to his voice that he knew would make Steve’s heart race.

Steve swallowed as he watched Bucky scissor his fingers before reaching for the lube for himself. Resting back on his elbows, Steve smirked when he raised the bottle to his nose. “Peppermint?”

“Mhm,” Bucky said, pulling out his fingers and spreading the cool liquid around his rim to tease himself. “It – ah, it tingles. Feels good.”

Humming, Steve started to fist his cock to slick himself up and let his head fall back at the sensation. “Shit, yeah.”

With a grin, Bucky climbed up his outstretched legs and wrapped his hand around Steve’s, tightening his grasp to add more pressure as they guided his hand up and down. “You like that?” Bucky asked when Steve bucked his hips.

“Yeah,” Steve panted out, slowing down their hands and lifting his head to face him again. “Like you more, though.” He glanced toward the fire and its crackling, dancing flames. “Is this what you wanted?”

“As long as you’re comfortable.” The plush rug was enough of a cushion beneath his own knees and shins from where he straddled Steve’s thighs, but he wasn’t sure how it felt beneath Steve’s back, wondering if they should just move up to the bed.

But Steve shrugged and laid back with his hands behind his head, flexing his massive biceps in the process. “Surprisingly offers a decent amount of support.”

“Good,” Bucky said and eagerly shuffled forward, raising himself up. Steve helped lift the dress, pulling up the skirt, as Bucky positioned himself over him and lined up Steve’s hard cock with his entrance. “Ready?”

As soon as Steve nodded, Bucky watched pure pleasure take form on his face, eyes rolling back and jaw falling open, knowing that his own features were twisted in a similar fashion as Steve slipped inside of him. Bucky groaned as he sunk down slowly, because even after keeping himself open all afternoon, Steve stretched him wider, deeper, requiring time to adjust. Still, the pressure felt _so fucking good_. Filling him completely, it was everything he had spent the day dreaming of every time he rocked back against the plug, which now seemed so inadequate compared to Steve’s girth.

Once he had taken him fully, gasping at the highest point of intensity, Bucky paused and rested his hands on Steve’s heaving chest to support himself. Gently, he circled his hips, testing the waters as to how much he could move, feeling comfortable. When he lifted himself up an inch or so and sank back down, Steve grunted and moved his hands to grab Bucky’s waist, digging his thumbs into his hipbones and letting the skirt fall down around them. Bucky took that as encouragement to raise himself up again, slightly higher, before bringing himself down further. He repeated the little hops over and over, gaining confidence and setting a rhythm that matched his own needy whines and Steve’s desperate gasps. His cock throbbed beneath the skirt, leaking onto Steve’s stomach with each bounce.

“C’mon,” Steve said, voice strained, and gave Bucky a sharp slap on the ass. “Fuck yourself good, sweetheart, c’mon.”

Bucky moaned, hips stuttering as Steve helped to raise him almost all the way to the tip before sinking down to the root, grinding against him. The air punched out of Steve’s lungs when he repeated the motion, but this time, higher, _harder_. Picking up the pace, Bucky truly started to fuck himself as Steve asked, tightening his hold on Steve’s chest to give him better leverage to thrust down.

“Oh, that’s it, baby,” Steve groaned. “Take what you need.”

As he chased his high, clenching around Steve, Bucky panted and gasped at the shockwaves that coursed throughout his body each time he nailed his prostate. When he started to feel a familiar tightening in his gut and noticed Steve’s grunts getting higher in pitch, he stopped, throwing off their rhythm, not wanting this to end yet.

Bucky leaned forward to change the angle so that they were almost parallel. Moving his hands up to grasp Steve’s shoulders, he pressed his lips to the center of Steve’s chest, leaving a red imprint as he licked off the sweat that gathered there. He continued to kiss his way up to Steve’s throat, so that he could slow their pace and give them both a chance to catch their breath. The new position didn’t allow Bucky to frantically bounce up and down, but instead, he fucked back onto Steve through sensual and slow rolls of his hips, knowing that the curve of his spine looked absolutely sinful.

Steve’s low hum vibrated against Bucky’s lips, making him smile. “Still feeling good, Stevie?”

Sighing, Steve ran one hand through Bucky’s hair, while the other caressed the smooth velvet of his skirt. “God, you feel like heaven.”

If his face wasn’t already flushed, Bucky knew that it certainly was now and gave Steve a good _deep_ thrust as a ‘thank you’ for the compliment. He leaned forward even further, exaggerating the stretch and capturing Steve’s lips in a kiss that they both moaned into. The warmth of the fire only made the moment more perfect. Over the months, Bucky learned that this may have been his favorite way of making love to Steve. On top, he could control the slow and steady tempo, taking his time with rolling his hips back. He loved these moments when he felt every nerve lit up in his body, when they attempted to press every inch of skin together, when their fluid movements melted into a single being.

Bucky could happily live in that space for the rest of time, senses heightened, drawing out their orgasms for hours, but he also knew that this slightly frustrated Steve, limited in his ability to thrust up into him. As he started to buck his hips, Steve broke the kiss with a groan, shaking his head. “Fuck, I need more of you.”

With a nod, eager to please, Bucky gave him one more kiss and allowed Steve to take the lead.

“On your knees,” Steve instructed, serious and borderline impatient.

Carefully sliding off of him, Bucky chuckled and let Steve position him facing the fireplace, shoving him onto his hands and knees. (Bucky had to admit that as much as he enjoyed the slow and emotional intimacy, Bossy Steve held a special place in his heart too.)

Steve nudged his knees wider and settled between them, trailing his hands up the backs of his thighs and groping the perky globes of his ass. Bucky flipped up the skirt for him, reminded of how much adored getting fucked while fully dressed, somehow feeling even naughtier and more exposed than if he was naked. Making an appreciative noise low in his throat, Steve spread Bucky’s cheeks apart and dipped the tip of a thumb just barely past his rim. “You’re always so fucking hungry for me, huh?”

“Mm, always want you,” Bucky said, rocking back in an attempt to take his thumb deeper. “Wanted you all day, baby. Had me feeling like such a desperate slut.”

With a dark laugh, Steve removed his thumb and rubbed his cock between his cheeks, instead. “You _are_ one, aren’t you? I mean, look at this pretty dress. You knew exactly what you wanted tonight, keeping yourself open all day and dressing up like this.”

Bucky couldn’t deny that he had been counting down the days and concocting a plan to fully take advantage of their first vacation. “You’re right, Steve. I wanted you to fuck me like the dirty, desperate, needy whore I am. So do it.”

Without another word, Steve pushed into him with a rough thrust. “Oh!” Bucky cried out, staring into the glowing embers beneath the fire and feeling that same heat boiling beneath his skin.

Steve gradually sped up the snapping of his hips, not taking long before he reached a downright punishing pace. Along with the crackling of the wood right before their eyes, the room soon filled with the sounds of skin on skin slapping together, lewd and filthy. Bucky knew that this was the speed that Steve was dying for while on his back, and it was an aggressive rate that could never last long.

_Fuck_ , it felt amazing, though. 

Each thrust, Steve drove himself in deep, grinding at the end just as Bucky liked, making him see stars. The near-constant onslaught against Bucky’s prostate made his thoughts white out, unable to think of anything other than the raw pleasure vibrating inside of him, how good, how big, how perfect Steve was to him. Familiar with his own habits in bed, Bucky was probably babbling all of this out loud, but he didn’t mind in the slightest, knowing that the praise only spurred Steve on more.

When Bucky attempted to meet his rhythm, rocking his hips backward, Steve gripped his hips and held him in place to fuck him even harder. The thought of Steve simply using his body as an object to get himself off shamefully brought back the tightening in the pit of his stomach. “Oh, I’m close, I’m close,” Bucky whimpered and reached between his legs.

Steve knocked his hand away and leaned over him, pressing his chest to Bucky’s back to growl into his ear, “Oh, no. You either come on my cock, or you don’t come at all.”

Bucky practically sobbed when Steve shoved him face-first into the rug. Raising his ass higher, while Bucky gripped the faux fur, Steve continued to rapidly thrust into him, grunting out almost animalistic noises and reminding Bucky why he wanted to do this on the floor in the first place. He craved this primal urge that burned in both of them as hot and bright as the fire, an innate desire to help each other reach their purest form of pleasure. In a way, it was an illustration of their deepest form trust and respect and _love_.

That thought made Bucky come.

Shouting, he lifted his head to watch orange sparks fly into the air from a piece of wood snapping under the flames, falling to the bottom charred at the same time as he unraveled. He clenched down, gasping for breath, and worked Steve through his own climax after he came moaning Bucky’s name, hips pumping on instinct.

For a seemingly infinite amount of time, Bucky hung pliant and boneless in Steve’s arms. Together, they basked in the afterglow and literal glow of the fireplace, feeling each other’s racing heartbeats. Five months, and the sex had only gotten better and better. Bucky almost couldn’t believe that fact, but he was so grateful that it was true, assuming it was a good trajectory to be on for the rest of their lives.

Steve cautiously pulled himself out of Bucky’s body, and Bucky felt come drip down his thigh, stuffed full of Steve’s release. Another beautiful thought.

They laughed breathlessly together as they collapsed at the same time, lying side by side on the rug. “You were right,” Steve said with his long hair dripping with sweat and lipstick marks scattered across his torso. On Bucky, the velvet frankly felt disgusting now and his hair felt matted, but Steve stared at him with absolute wonder glimmering in his eyes. “That was fucking amazing.”

Exhausted and blissed-out, Bucky’s grin felt a little lopsided. “We can make floor sex a regular thing.”

Steve gave him a skeptical look and stretched his back with a groan. “Maybe not.”

Laughing again, Bucky dropped a hand to the fur and flinched away from either lube or sweat or come – or all three. “We should probably take this rug home with us or throw it away as, like, a courtesy thing, right?”

With a snort, Steve nodded. “Yeah, let’s not make the guys hate us.”

While Steve propped an arm beneath his head, Bucky nodded with him and lifted his clean hand to his beard, gently stroking his jawline. “I love you,” he said, the words somehow always on the tip of his tongue and always appropriate.

“I love you too,” Steve replied without hesitation, automatic yet perfectly genuine.

They leaned in for the kiss at the same time and separated wearing matching grins.

After a few more peaceful moments of lying at each other’s side, Bucky caught Steve’s eye and cocked an eyebrow. “Round two in the shower?”

🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄

_All is calm, all is bright_ felt like the perfect way to describe waking up beside Steve in the morning.

Light streamed in through the window, brighter than normal from the early-morning sun reflecting off the piles of white snow outside, and it cast a heavenly glow over his beautiful boyfriend. They fell asleep facing each other after exchanging lazy, unhurried kisses, still unable to get enough of each other even as the fire dwindled down. Steve looked completely at peace while he continued to sleep, breathing gently through his nose, with those stunning eyelashes – as long as ever – dusting the high points of his cheeks. Bucky admired the golden waves that formed in his hair from drying overnight, and it looked so soft that he simply couldn’t resist the urge to reach out and touch it.

Threading his fingertips into the almost-delicate strands, Bucky brushed his hair past his ear with a smile. Steve seemed to lean into his touch, but his eyes remained closed. Bucky continued to lightly stroke his hair, inhaling the spicy scent of the soap they shared in the shower, before the sound of clanking dishes downstairs made the responsibilities of the day set in.

Hesitantly, he decided that now might actually be the time to wake up Steve…after one more pass through his hair.

(And then one more.)

Bucky leaned forward and pressed his lips, feather-light, to the tip of Steve’s nose. When Steve crinkled his nose, Bucky repressed the urge to giggle and moved up further, peppering tiny kisses across his forehead. He pulled back when Steve’s breathy chuckle ghosted his throat as he raised a hand to Bucky’s bare side. Finally awake, Steve squinted at the light so that Bucky only saw a hint of blue between his eyelids. “Morning, gorgeous,” he said with a rasp to his voice that made Bucky shiver.

Instinctively pulling the quilt closer, Bucky grinned. “Sleep well?”

“Mhm,” Steve hummed in response, dangerously close to falling right back asleep, but he appeared to force his eyes to stay open. “How ‘bout you?”

Bucky nodded with his face still pressed against what had to be a down feather pillow. The bed felt like sleeping on a bank of fresh snow – not cold and wet, like real snow, but plushy and soft and cushiony, like the cotton fluff that surrounded a Santa at the mall.

He sighed when he heard laughter rise up the stairs from presumably the kitchen. “Slept _really_ , really well, but I’m afraid we have to get up soon.”

Scrunching up his nose again, Steve shook his head. “Five more minutes?”

As tempting as that suggestion sounded, Bucky knew that if he joined Steve in resting his eyes again, they would stay in bed until late afternoon. He planted a quick peck to the middle of Steve’s forehead and swung his legs over the side of the bed. “I’ll start the coffee.”

“I’ll meet you down there,” Steve promised, voice muffled as he pulled the blanket over his face.

Bucky couldn’t help but smile at him while getting dressed for the day. Pulling on his jeans, he truly felt thankful that Steve had finally learned the art of sleeping in. Rather than waking up at the crack of dawn, anxious and immediately putting pressure on himself to get everything accomplished as soon as possible, he actually allowed his body to rest now, and Bucky happily leaned down to kiss him goodbye in bed before heading off to work. 

As for himself, Bucky took pride in the progress he had made in learning to value his time too. He stopped scheduling meetings during a usual lunch hour, which made Ethel, his secretary, quite happy – first, so that she could eat lunch too, and second, so that she could flirt with the “dashing young gentleman” who often brought Bucky soup and salad on his way home from the gym.

He no longer stayed at his office past sundown, ordering takeout to eat at his desk alone, and instead, went home at a normal time, eating dinner with Steve and spending the rest of the evening by his side, often watching TV in the living room and competing over the primetime game shows. Steve typically had an edge on _Wheel of Fortune_ , but Bucky regularly aced _Jeopardy!_ , practicing for his eventual appearance.

Despite the explosive new interest in his very small business, Bucky had also started to thin down his caseload, choosing not to accept any new clients and recommending some of his current clients to other attorneys who specialized in elder law. Of course, he kept the ones who had been with him for years and were essentially family at this point. But for the ones he had only started advising in the past year (and promptly abandoned for two months to gallivant off on an island for a reality show), he explained that he needed more time to spend at home, unable to take his eyes off of the picture on his desk of him and Steve sitting on the steps of their dream Brooklyn brownstone.

The clients who clearly hadn’t seen the show simply said that they appreciated his honesty and recommendations, and the clients who clearly had seen the show told him that they were thrilled he had found his everlasting happiness.

Looking over the bed where Steve let out little snores that made his heart swell, Bucky could certainly borrow those words to describe the feeling in his chest.

As he stepped down the staircase, socks padding against the hardwood, he immediately felt transported back to Christmas mornings as a child, peeking down the garland-covered railing with Becca at the sea of presents that surrounded their illuminated tree. They raced each other down the steps in their footie-pajamas and searched for their names on the tags before tearing open the paper and digging into their new toys, while their Ma sipped her coffee in her armchair, ready to intervene the inevitable fights.

Bucky felt an inherent burst of competitive energy at the sight of presents that magically appeared under the tree in the study, but he was more interested in listening in to the conversation in the kitchen, hearing Riley and Nat talking to each other.

In the middle of saying something, Nat shushed him. “Wait, I hear someone coming.”

He stood in the doorway to find his two best friends sitting at the breakfast bar, eagerly staring in his direction. As soon as he walked in, however, Nat sighed, and Riley said, “Damn, it’s just you.”

With a surprised laugh, Bucky crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe. “Sorry to disappoint?”

After taking a sip of coffee, Nat gestured above him with her mug. “We’re waiting for people to walk under the mistletoe.”

He looked up to find that there was, in fact, a sprig of green leaves and red berries hanging above the door. Remembering his own kiss under mistletoe from the day before, Bucky smiled and joined them in the kitchen, heading to the fancy coffee pot.

“We got these two,” Riley said proudly, pointing at Val and Carol where they were rolling out dough for pie crust on the marble countertop of the island.

Carol beamed at Val as she dusted the dough with flour. “I would’ve kissed her anyway.”

Giggling, Val shook her head when Carol dropped another kiss to her shoulder through the fluffy fabric of her pink sweater. “We’re trying to get ahead on our dishes for the meal, since the crust needs time to chill,” she explained. “We called dibs on dessert in case you couldn’t tell.”

“Pumpkin, apple, and pecan,” Carol said. “The Holy Trinity of pie.”

“Agreed,” Riley said, practically swooning in his chair.

Bucky chuckled to himself and tried not to worry too much at the reminder that he would have to cook something today. Despite him only stirring hazelnut-flavored creamer into his coffee, having never said a word, Nat shushed him at the sound of footsteps on the stairs. They all peered around cabinets, gazing at the doorway, to find Jane stepping into the kitchen by herself, wearing another oversized sweater. “Good morning, everyone,” she said, wiping her eyes with her hands, mostly covered by the long sleeves.

Reminded of early mornings in the kitchenette at the villa, Bucky pulled another mug for her. “Coffee with cream and one sugar?” he asked, testing his memory.

Jane smiled sweetly and stood beside him at the counter. “That sounds good, but I think I’ll have tea, instead.”

Bucky stepped out of the way for her to reach the basket of individual packets of herbal tea, carrying his and Steve’s mugs to join Nat and Riley at the counter. “Y’know, I used to take ballet lessons as a young chickadee,” Riley said, making conversation.

“Oh, really?” Nat asked, eyebrows raised, same as Bucky who was learning this information too.

“Yup. Not nearly patient enough to get good at it, though. Takes a lot of discipline.”

Nat nodded before shooting Bucky a glance that could only be classified as impish, and Bucky sighed, knowing exactly what she was about to say next. “You know who else took a few ballet lessons as a kid?”

When Riley gasped, Bucky groaned. “Ma insisted it would be good for me.”

“Yeah, and now, it makes a really _good_ story,” Nat said while he rolled his eyes.

Nat shared with Riley that he only attended a few of her classes and despised every minute of them. He hated the rigid structure of the lessons, bored of the incessant repetition of the same five positions. “He couldn’t keep them straight to begin with,” Nat said through a laugh.

Riley laughed with her. “Bucky struggling to be straight? I’m shocked.”

Interrupting the story and giving Bucky a moment of respite from the embarrassment, Hope and Scott joined them in the kitchen. The others yelled at them to stop in the doorway and then cheered when they saw the mistletoe, exchanging a kiss.

When he finished clapping, Riley leaned back to Nat with a smirk. “Now, tell me he wasn’t the most adorable, precious thing in his little tights?”

“ _So_ cute!” Nat immediately confirmed, gushing to describe him in his assigned outfit, while Bucky realized that allowing these two to become friends may have been a horrible mistake.

Bruce and Maria descended the staircase next and received the same treatment from their friends, laughing as they were pressured into kissing under the mistletoe. They did the same for Peggy and Angie, who smiled into their smooch. By that point, starting to get crowded as people milled about to brew coffee and tea, while Carol and Val flicked flour at each other, the kitchen was buzzing with energy, feeling so familiar to days spent in the villa as they waited eagerly for their next challenge.

They were all in on the mistletoe prank now, and as soon as someone heard voices echoing in the foyer, the room fell silent. Nat grinned and excitedly reached for Bucky and Riley’s hands when they recognized the voices of the two men.

Laughing at their own conversation, Steve and Sam appeared in the doorway. When the kitchen erupted in cheers and applause, they both stopped, eyes wide, evidently surprised and confused. “Well, that’s a warm welcome,” Sam said, beaming at the room before locking eyes with Riley who stared back at him in anticipation.

Dressed in another cableknit sweater (but this time, a deep navy-blue), Steve gave Bucky his own questioning glance.

Together, Bucky and Riley pointed up to the mistletoe, and as soon as they looked up, Steve and Sam flinched apart from each other, bumping into the doorway. The others in the kitchen laughed, starting to chant for them to kiss, and Sam shook his head. “Absolutely not.”

“C’mon!” Riley shouted.

Steve crossed his arms. “Nope.”

“Why not?” Bucky asked at the same time as Nat, and Steve rolled his eyes.

“How many times were we forced to kiss for the show?”

“We weren’t even there for one!” Riley protested.

“Yeah!” Bucky agreed, remembering their horrible-yet-hilarious kiss from the dreaded video they received at Casa Amor. “Plus, this is the _holiday_ special, so that obviously calls for a special holiday kiss."

Sam shook his head again, leaning even further away from Steve and raising his eyebrows at Riley and Bucky. “Why do you two even want to see that?”

“It’s just a little fun, Sammie,” Riley said with a shrug.

As the others joined in, attempting to convince them to follow the tradition, Steve and Sam continued to argue, seemingly unwilling to cave. In the middle of the noise, Thor made it down the steps without being detected and stood behind Steve and Sam in the doorway. “What’s with all the yelling?” he asked, voice naturally overpowering everyone else’s.

“These two don’t want to share a little friendly kiss under the mistletoe,” Hope explained on behalf of the entire group.

“What?” Thor scoffed, sounding offended, and threw his arms around their shoulders. “I’ll kiss them both.”

Before anyone could reply or even react, Thor turned to Steve, who froze in place with his eyes wide open, and planted a kiss on his lips before turning to Sam and doing the same.

The rest of the group cheered and laughed, applauding Thor as he pushed past them, proudly strutting into the kitchen. Jane stepped into his embrace with a lighthearted grin. Meanwhile, Steve blushed and sputtered for a response, while Sam remained petrified, mouth gaping open in shock. Bucky couldn’t help but cackle with Riley, enjoying the sight of his boyfriend being kissed by another built, bearded man – and okay, maybe these were thoughts for another time.

Steve and Sam were still trapped in the doorway when Wanda appeared behind them. Stepping past them, she raised her eyebrows and asked the group, “What did I miss?”

Catching her up to the past few minutes was enough to break the spell, and Steve joined Bucky at the breakfast bar, shaking his head. “Was that everything you dreamed of?” he asked and took a sip of the coffee that Bucky prepared for him, mug still steaming.

Bucky smiled at Sam wrapping his arms around Riley, standing behind the bar stool. “Everything and more.”

With their third and final pie crust pressed into the tin, Carol and Val put them in the fridge before washing their hands in the farmhouse sink and wiping the flour off their pants. Val turned with the towel still in her hands and looked around the full kitchen. “Is this everyone?”

The others looked between themselves, and Bucky looked at Nat, knowing one last person whose presence they were missing, someone who had undoubtedly fallen back asleep. She sighed and rose from her chair. “I’ll go get Clint.”

🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄

With the gang back together once again, all seventeen of them split themselves between the three couches in the study, half on the couches and half on the floor, facing the tree decorated with glittering ornaments and tinsel beside the fireplace. Stockings hung across the mantel with their initials embroidered into each one, couples paired together. A modest pile of presents laid beneath the tree, wrapped in metallic paper and topped with ribbons and bows. As they sat beside that pile, Bucky exchanged a subtle smirk with Steve as they glanced at the flickering flames.

Once the entire group found their places, they passed around a bag of hats and headbands to accessorize their holiday getups. Hope chose a classic red Santa hat to match her red argyle sweater, and Riley selected a white one to go with his white sweater that was covered with fringe, swaying when he settled onto the couch beside Sam. Perfectly matching his personality, Clint wore a green headband that had a Christmas tree springing above it, curling up like a coil and decorated with pom-pom balls and a gold star. Nat went with a complementary green elf hat. When the bag made it to them, Steve pulled out another classic hat, giving Bucky another knowing smirk when he brushed his fingers across the red velvet. For himself, Bucky slipped on a reindeer-antler headband to go with the reindeer motif on his pastel-blue sweater.

Bucky smiled as he looked around the room at the Christmas-card portrait they created and gasped when he saw a familiar woman standing poised in the doorway.

“Hello again, Islanders!” Janet Van Dyne exclaimed gleefully, sparkling in her silver gown, overdressed yet radiant as always.

The group greeted her with cheers and applause, and Bucky ignored the Pavlovian response of dread prickling over his skin, used to associating her presence with bad news, and reminded himself that no one would be eliminated from the holiday special.

“How come you didn’t float down from the ceiling, Mom?” Hope asked with a grin.

Janet chuckled and clasped her trusty cue cards. “I’ll leave the stunts to the young ones.”

As the others glanced in his direction, Riley shook his head. “Considerin’ how scared I was yesterday, I think I’ll leave the stunts to the ones even younger than me.”

The group laughed and turned back to Janet as she said, “Well, you all have nothing to worry about right now, because you’ll be opening your presents from the Love Island crew!”

Bucky cheered along with the others. On the ride there, Steve explained to him that the presents were a holiday special staple. Every couple or individual received a personalized gift, picked out or made by the producers; some were gag gifts, just for laughs, and others were truly special and heartfelt. Of course, everyone was excited to see which type of present they received.

“Obviously,” Janet continued, “we have to elect our own Santa for the morning to hand out all the presents, so who would you like to nominate?”

All on the same wavelength, they turned to the bearded man beside the tree, wearing the ideal hat. “Santa Rogers!” Val said excitedly, summarizing their thoughts.

Steve chuckled and ducked his head, face turning the same shade as his hat. “As long as I can have my beautiful – reindeer, I guess? – companion to assist me.”

Leaning against him, Bucky beamed, while the others let out a laugh.

When his boyfriend picked up the first package, Bucky realized a possible flaw in the plan as Steve attempted to read the tag, squinting at the small font. He looked up at the others to find Carol smirking. “Where are your reading glasses, Old St. Steve?”

Steve sighed, chest deflating, before reaching into his pocket to pull out the ridiculously-small case, and Bucky had never seen a group of people so excited to see someone put on a pair of glasses, as if it was a gift in its own right.

“Alright,” Steve said, now even more in character with the thin, tiny spectacles perched on his nose. “Our first present is for…Bruce and Maria!”

Bucky helped hand the present over to them, feeling that it was squishy beneath the paper, and they all leaned forward eagerly to watch the two open it, revealing, “Monogrammed bathrobes!”

With one in white and one in black, the robes appeared sleek, warm, and comfortable. Maria immediately hugged hers to her chest, telling Janet and the cameras, “Thank you,” while Steve handed Bucky the next present to give to Peggy and Angie.

“In honor of your new line of alcohol…” Janet set up as they ripped open the paper to reveal two heart-shaped shot glasses, inscribed with _Mrs._ and _Mrs._ in pink lettering. Holding them up for the others to see, they grinned, and Janet added, “No pressure to get married, though! But, now, you’re set for when you’re ready.”

Peggy thanked Janet with a laugh, while Angie placed the bow on top of her girlfriend’s head.

Next up was the present for Hope and Scott, which gave a metallic rattle when Bucky handed it to them. “Since Cassie has been asking for one, we thought we’d help you with some of the required accessories,” Janet said for their lead-up.

Hope gasped after tearing open the paper, and Scott grinned as he held up a dog bowl and leash, both decorated with the Love Island logo. “We may have our eye on a cute rescue pup back home,” he admitted, making the others clap and cheer.

Bucky glanced out of the corner of his eye to find Steve pressing his hands against his cheeks, eyes crinkling with excitement for them. After they had settled into the house, he had started hinting at adopting a dog, but they decided to wait a few months to make sure they would actually be compatible living together and naturally fit into each other’s daily lives. Of course, they had nothing to worry about, so maybe now was a good time to reconsider adding a fluffy friend to their family.

Steve caught him looking and squeezed his hand in his own before passing along the next gift. “For Carol and Val.”

After her girlfriend ripped open the paper, Carol groaned at the gift Val held up. “As if she needs to spend more time in the bath!”

Val laughed at the pair of bath salts and oil, and Janet tried to convince Carol to enjoy them. “Not just any bath salts and oil, but bath salts and oil designed with _romance_ in mind. Relaxing lavender and rose, combined with jasmine, an aphrodisiac.”

While Val gave her an additionally-convincing smolder, wafting the oil for her to smell, Carol’s face broke into a reluctant smile. “Well, alright, maybe I’m a little interested now.”

Wanda’s gift came in a box, and her face lit up when she opened it. Breathless, she said, “You guys, this is too much.”

“Since you’ll be trading in tropical flowers for roses as the next Bachelorette,” Janet explained, “here is a bouquet that will never wilt to remind you of your home at Love Island.”

The floral arrangement consisted of a variety of tropical flowers – hibiscuses and lilies and orchids – all sculpted out of metal and painted vibrant pinks and oranges and yellows. Wanda beamed down at it and then at the rest of the group. “I will never, ever forget my Love Island family.”

On opposite sides of her, Maria and Val squished her into a hug, while the others let out heartfelt _aw_ ’s.

“For Nat and Clint,” Steve said next, and Bucky passed it to them.

In a manner that Bucky lovingly referred to as purely ‘psychopathic,’ Nat cleanly sliced the tape with her finger along the seams, leaving the paper fully intact without a single tear. He shook his head at the way she folded it neatly after revealing a smaller box.

“Because you two unfortunately never got to have your first official date at the villa…” Janet teased as Nat opened the box. “We hope you’ll enjoy the opportunity to go indoor skydiving in New York, since we all know you don’t like boring dates.”

Nat grinned as she pulled out the pair of tickets, and Clint pumped his fists in the air. “Dude, that’s awesome!”

The others laughed and cheered for them when Nat pulled him in for a kiss.

“Shall we open ours next?” Steve suggested, pointing out that there were only three presents left under the tree.

“Y’all know I love them, but do these two really need another present from Love Island?” Riley asked jokingly.

“Yeah,” Sam agreed with a playful grin. “Was the fifty grand and house not enough?”

Bucky rolled his eyes but also somewhat hoped that their gift was something small after how unbelievably generous the show had been to them. He held his breath when Steve handed him their present, feeling that it was light, and unlike Nat, he opened it as a normal person would, practically ripping the paper apart with his teeth. Steve chuckled when he got the first glimpse at the three identical packages inside.

Smiling as well, Bucky held up the packs of fishnet stockings for the others to see.

“A present for Steve as much as it is for Bucky,” Janet mused.

“Who else wants to bet he’ll be wearing them as soon as they get home tonight?” Nat said with a smirk, making Steve blush even deeper than he already was.

Noticing that the stockings were the exact same brand and style as the ones he wore for the heartrate monitor challenge back in July, however, Bucky shook his head. “Oh, no, these are going in the scrapbook."

The others laughed together, and Bucky shrugged. He didn’t have a literal scrapbook as he described the morning after their Hideaway visit, but he did have a keepsake box in their closet that held their various Love Island mementos, including the corset, skirt, and torn stockings, champagne corks from their dates, and the handwritten ‘wedding’ speeches that listed out their vows. Since he already had a dresser drawer full of stockings, the three in his hand would be an excellent addition to the box.

(And, okay, maybe they could use one of the packages…or two.)

“Our favorite second-place couple,” Steve said, passing Bucky the penultimate present to hand to Sam and Riley.

The torn paper revealed the smallest box yet, and Riley shook it for a clue, raising an eyebrow. “Ooh, I hope it’s a pony.”

Sam humored him with a grin and lifted the lid. Together, they looked inside, and Riley curiously pulled out a single gold key with a keychain of a red heart on the ring.

“Did _you_ get a house?” Bucky asked, while the others cocked their heads.

“Oh, we already have a hell of a house,” Sam said casually.

Beside him, Steve whispered, “Knew it,” under his breath.

The entire group looked to Janet for the explanation. “Well, we know you want to have a sunny, summer wedding, so this is our way of offering you the perfect venue. This is a key to the villa.”

Bucky raised a hand to cover his mouth as they all turned back to Riley and Sam who appeared in a similar state of disbelief. While one held onto Sam’s arm, Riley used his other hand to clutch his engagement ring that hung around his neck on a gold chain that matched the band. Since the ring didn’t fit on his hand and he didn’t feel comfortable resizing an antique with such sentimental value, he wore it as a necklace as soon as Sam proposed while they were packing up after the finale, and ever since, he kept it pressed against his heart constantly. Now, the oval-shaped alexandrite shifted from purple to green in the golden firelight.

“What better way to celebrate your future than getting married in the place where you met?” Janet asked, as if they needed more convincing to accept the offer.

Riley and Sam glanced at each other, exchanging an entire conversation through their eyes alone in a brief moment, before they laced their hands together, and Sam announced officially. “We would be honored to have our wedding at the villa.”

As the others cheered, Riley added, “That means we’ll _all_ be going back to the villa!”, which made the others cheer even louder.

In the whirlwind of excitement, Bucky almost forgot that there was one final present left to give out, reminded when Steve nudged his arm with it. When everyone had settled enough, Bucky passed it down the line, “For Jane and Thor.”

The group turned their attention from Sam and Riley, who were still marveling at their key and everything it represented, to the last couple to receive their gift. “And I’ll let Jane and Thor explain it themselves,” Janet said, making the others lean forward out of intrigue from her slightly cryptic message.

Jane’s cheeks flushed a pale shade of pink, pressing herself against Thor’s side as he tore open the paper. He chuckled when they peeked inside, and she smiled when he allowed her to pick up their gift for the others to see. Gently, slowly, she lifted into the air a miniature garment made of a white cotton fabric with yellow short sleeves to match the Love Island logo in the center – a baby onesie.

“No way,” Bucky blurted out, instinctively grabbing Steve’s hand.

The others reacted in a similar way with gasps and held breath, and the quiet crackling of the fire was the only sound that filled the room while they waited for Jane and Thor to confirm the news.

They shared a quick glance, almost steadying themselves, before spreading their arms wide and exclaiming happily yet almost a little nervous, “We’re pregnant!”

Of course, an explosion of sound followed that announcement, filled with joy and laughter and still a bit of shock. They screamed and they applauded and they even cried, as Riley wiped away the tears that rolled down his overwhelmed face. Steve leaped up from his position on the floor and crushed Thor in a tight hug before leaning down to give Jane a much gentler, more careful embrace. Following his lead, everyone rose to their feet and offered the ecstatic couple their own hugs and congratulations. “So amazing,” Bucky said when he reached them, mind completely blank of any better words, but his genuine enthusiasm seemed to be enough when Thor and Jane thanked him.

Stepping back to give them space and holding Steve’s hand, Bucky realized all of the details that now clicked into place. Jane wearing the oversized sweaters to cover the bump that may have started forming. Her skipping the champagne the night before and opting for caffeine-free tea, instead of coffee, in the morning. Even her being extra tired when they shared stories in the living room, napping off and on with her hands over her belly.

Everything made sense now, and it was wonderful.

Rescuing Jane and Thor before the oncoming avalanche of questions could start, Janet stepped in once the noised died down enough. “Our congratulations go out to the first Love Island baby of Season 11,” she said but raised her hands before they could all cheer again, “and now, you all have a great big dinner to prepare, so that our proud mama can eat for two!"

They laughed and lined up to say goodbye to Janet, giving her thanks and hugs, before heading to the kitchen to decide who would be making what dish.

🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄

“Steve, we can’t do this.”

“Of course, we can.”

“I’ve never done this before!”

“Neither have I, but we’ll figure it out.”

“What if we do it wrong?”

“We’re not gonna do it wrong when we have the directions right here.”

Rubbing his temples, Bucky stared down at the enormous turkey in the pan on the counter. As it turned out, according to ‘tradition’ (that Steve conveniently forgot to mention), the winning couple of the season was given the _honor_ of cooking the turkey.

Unfortunately, the winning couple of Season 11 had limited culinary experience to help them achieve the feat. Bucky knew that he could whip up a decent breakfast of eggs, bacon, homefries, and his signature French toast – the trick was putting vanilla extract and cinnamon in the batter. Steve attempted to make use of their remodeled kitchen that was nearly fitted for a professional chef by trying out new recipes every week. Over the few months of living together, they had admittedly gotten better at not relying on delivery or takeout and fending for themselves, but they were still cooking for two people, not _seventeen_.

Bucky sighed and crossed his arms. “What if we mess up one of the steps, though?”

“Doesn’t matter. Even if we mess something up, we have the most important ingredient right here,” Steve said with a shrug, pointing at the center of his chest, “love.”

Not in the mood for his cheesy lines, Bucky rolled his eyes. “Love is not going to prevent our friends from getting Salmonella!”

“No one is getting Salmonella. Buck, relax.”

“You two alright over there?” Scott asked from where he stood on the opposite end of the island with Hope, having no difficulty peeling potatoes together.

“Yeah, we’re fine,” Bucky said through a sigh, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck, suddenly much more tense.

“Are you arguing?” Hope asked. “Is this your first argument? I feel like I’m witnessing a historical event take place, and I don’t like it.”

Steve shook his head with a lighthearted chuckle. “We’re not arguing. Never really had an argument actually.”

That was true. Much to the chagrin of the producers who desperately wanted to film an argument, claiming it would be great for ratings, they had never fought over anything and didn’t really have plans to start.

***

“But it’d be such a great storyline for an episode,” Dum Dum explained. “Shift the tone a bit, create some tension. Everyone would be on the edge of their seats, watching their favorite couple hash it out, and at the end of the day, you kiss and make up. Never been better.”

Bucky scoffed but knew that they were contractually obligated to agree. “So, what? We make something up? Like, ‘You _bastard_ , I knew you’ve been sleeping with the maid!’ Does that work?”

Dum Dum laughed. “Definitely not that. How about something a little less serious?”

They ended up ‘arguing’ over what material to use for the countertops in the bathroom. “Granite is flashy, but marble is timeless!” Bucky shouted, needing a few takes before getting one where he didn’t smile through the line.

Steve struggled to keep a straight face through his response, as well, going back and forth with absurd dialogue. The producers told them that they’d make the argument more convincing through framing, editing, and background music before showing the ‘apologies’ and kiss they shared before going to bed that evening.

(In the end, they decided to go with marble, which was truly the option that they both wanted from the beginning.)

***

It was a stupid thing to pretend to argue over for the show, equally as stupid as arguing over a turkey now.

Sighing, Bucky glanced at the directions again. “I just don’t want to do this wrong and make someone sick.”

“You’ve really never cooked a turkey before?” Scott asked. “What did you do for Thanksgiving?”

Steve shrugged. “Our Ma’s insisted on doing all the cooking. We brought a bottle of wine.”

Becca and her fiancé brought the other bottle, meeting at the Barnes’ childhood home where Winifred and Sarah had been putting together the feast since the early morning. After meeting behind-the-scenes on the show, their mothers met once a week to get lunch together and likely share embarrassing stories about their sons. They divided the Thanksgiving menu between themselves and decided to do the same for Christmas.

Bucky and Steve felt both glad and somewhat scared that their mothers were already such good friends, but their fabulous joint cooking meant that neither of their sons had cooked a turkey.

“It’s really not that hard,” Scott said, washing off more potatoes for them to peel. “You basically just put it in the oven, baste it every so often, and make sure it gets to a certain temperature. I think you two can figure it out.”

Steve slipped his arm around Bucky’s waist, smiling down at him warmly. “Whataya say, Buck? Think we can do it?”

Looking back at the turkey, Bucky nodded.

As much as he didn’t want to admit it, cooking the bird turned out to be easier than he expected. Together, they seasoned it with salt, pepper, and medley of herbs and then poured chicken broth into the tray. They placed it into the oven once it finished preheating before turning to each other and exchanging a shrug. “Now, we wait?”

Steve leaned against the counter to check the directions again. “Yup. Takes thirteen minutes for every pound, and we have a twenty-five-pound turkey. C’mon, Ivy League, where’s that mental math?”

Bucky rolled his eyes but squinted as he tried to do the math. In the middle of mental long division, Steve interrupted him with a smirk. “They also left us a note that it should take about five and a half hours.”

“You’re such a jerk,” Bucky said through a sigh, knowing that the affection in his eyes betrayed any true insult.

Steve simply chuckled and allowed Bucky to playfully shove his side. “We also have to baste the turkey every 45 minutes, so I’ll set a timer to do the first one. In the meantime…”

Taking turns in the kitchen, they switched places with Bruce and Maria in the living room, so that they could start prepping their macaroni and cheese. They joined Riley and Sam on the couch as the group peppered Jane and Thor with questions. Glowing from not just the light of the fireplace, Jane sat on Thor’s lap with his large hands resting on her stomach, and they answered them patiently.

“Coming up on fourteen weeks.” “No, we don’t know the sex, and no, we don’t want to know.” “No plans for a baby shower yet, but you’ll be the first to get invitations.” “No ideas for names yet either, but yes, Riley, we will definitely name them after you.” “A happy accident, but we couldn’t be more excited.”

Looking at their beaming grins, Bucky believed them wholeheartedly.

Beside him, Riley slipped his arm behind Bucky’s head. “What’s cookin’, good lookin’?”

“Ideally, the turkey,” Bucky said, and Nat snickered from the opposite couch, immediately sensing his disdain when they were assigning the dishes.

“How’s that going?” she asked.

Steve shrugged. “Totally fine, nothing to worry about. Before you know it, we’re going to be pros in the kitchen.”

“Weren’t you two bragging on Instagram about a cooking class you went to a few weeks ago?” Clint asked, and Bucky tried not to blush.

***

The cooking class started off as a joke. Bucky saw the advertisement, glimpsed the word “lasagna,” and immediately sent it to Steve.

_Maybe you can finally learn how to make me that lasagna you promised ;)_

Steve replied right away: _Damn. Are we already at the cooking class stage in our relationship?_

Bucky proceeded to spend the rest of his afternoon defending the cooking class as a viable date option, something different to spice things up, until Steve caved and signed them up.

They ended up being the youngest participants by about twenty years.

Which was fine! Made even more fine by the complimentary Cab Sav that Bucky helped himself to quite heavily. (Perhaps too much.)

By the time the red wine caught up to him, head starting to feel fuzzy and balance slightly off-center and Steve suddenly looking even more _fucking gorgeous_ , the sauce simmered on the stove, and they were moving on to the fresh pasta. “Now that the flour is on your board, take two fingers and press them into the center to form a well,” their instructor said next.

Bucky scoffed and leaned against Steve’s side, tilting his head back to whisper into his ear. “Just two? Baby, you know I can take three.”

“Oh, god,” Steve muttered under his breath, apparently realizing how far gone Bucky actually was and promptly taking his glass from his hand and putting it on his side of the work station.

Moving the wine out of Bucky’s reach, however, did nothing to sober him up, and as he learned from Steve’s retelling of the events the next day while nursing his hangover, Steve spent the rest of the class doing most of the work, keeping Bucky from burning himself, and shooing away his wandering hands when they attempted to slip beneath Steve’s apron.

***

Bucky held his head in his hands when Steve told the story for the group, laughing about it now. “I have almost no memory of this cooking class,” Bucky admitted, knowing that his face was flushed. “But, hey, at least you have that lasagna recipe.”

Chuckling, Steve nodded. “Yeah, that’s good, because I don’t think we’ll be allowed back for another one.”

From there, they all continued to share stories of dates back home as people rotated in and out to prepare their dishes for the meal. Hope and Scott apparently also attended a class, but they made pottery vases of varying success with lumpy clay and splotchy paint. Carol and Val explored the natural hiking trails around their new home, and Sam and Riley withheld specific details of their own home while talking about the house-hunting process.

Reminiscing, Bucky rested his head against Steve’s shoulder, watching the snow fall outside the frosted window, and recalled their first tour of the brownstone that would become their home. As soon as they walked in the door and saw the classic exposed-brick walls that ran through entire house, they both fell in love, unable to shake their attachment to it throughout the rest of their showings that day. Placing the offer was the most terrifying and exciting moment of Bucky’s life – well, at least, up there on the list.

In the company of good friends and constantly-flowing conversation, the five and a half hours passed in a content blur. Steve and Bucky took turns basting the turkey, marveling at the way it turned golden brown in the oven, and they hugged each other tight when it reached its safe internal temperature without anything burning. Impressing themselves and the others, they even pulled off a fairly decent-looking gravy for Hope and Scott’s mashed potatoes before helping set the table.

Sam’s stuffing – or as Riley called it, “dressing” – smelled divine with fragrant rosemary and thyme. Wanda placed her crescent rolls on the table beside Thor’s green bean almondine, which he made on his own, so that Jane could rest her feet. Bruce and Maria’s macaroni and cheese looked wonderful with its breadcrumb topping, and Nat and Clint took great pleasure in toasting the marshmallows over their sweet potato casserole with a mini-blowtorch. Peggy and Angie made vibrantly-hued raspberry martinis with their _Cartinelli_ vodka, matching the red poinsettias of the center piece. Lastly, the smell of Carol and Val’s trio of pies baking in the oven wafted out to the dining room as they all took their assigned seats.

They smiled at each other, and Bucky heard someone suggest, “Speech?”

Turning to his right, Bucky looked at the superb speech-giver of the group but found Steve already looking at him. Just as the rest of the table was looking at him too.

Bucky raised his eyebrows. “You want – _me_ to give a speech?”

They all nodded and cheered, chanting for him to stand. Shaking his head, Bucky rose from his seat and lifted his glass. “Well, thanks, everyone. You know how much I love to be put on the spot,” he said as a joke, buying himself time to think of something to say.

Steve’s grin beaming up at him was enough to give him the confidence and reassurance to continue.

“At the beginning of the summer, I started a remarkable experience that I had no idea would leave such a lasting impact on my life. We all did. Whether we knew it back then or not, as soon as we walked into that villa, our lives would be changed forever. We didn’t just join Love Island to have a two-month vacation at a tropical resort, and – well, okay, maybe that was part of it. But, really, that show gave us not only lifelong friends and our dream partners, but it gave us the opportunity to become the best versions of our _selves_.

“I don’t know about you guys, but I have never been happier. I didn’t even think I could _be_ this happy. I didn’t think I deserved it. But after everything we went through, both during the show and the months that followed, I’ve realized that everyone deserves to have this feeling, including me. Thanks to you – all of you.”

“So,” Bucky continued, “here’s to all of the memories we created together and all of the ones we’ll make in the future. Here’s to the homes we’re building and the _lives_ we’re bringing into the world. Here’s to friends and family and soulmates. And here’s to giving and receiving the most powerful thing in the world…love. Happy Holidays, everyone.”

Bucky held his breath at the silence that followed his speech, glancing around at the gazes that remained transfixed on him, hopefully fondly, and he breathed out a sigh of relief when they all went around the table, clinking their glasses together.

“Was that okay?” Bucky asked Steve as he took his seat again.

“That was perfect,” Steve said, sounding completely sincere, blue eyes sparkling. “Happy Holidays, Buck.”

**Author's Note:**

> And Happy Holidays to you too, lovely reader!
> 
> No matter what holiday you celebrate this season, I hope it is/was wonderful and this fic helped you get into the spirit, and if you don't celebrate anything at all, I hope you've had a peaceful, relaxing few weeks (as much as you can in 2020) and you enjoyed reconnecting with our favorite Islanders! (Likewise, if you're reading this fic in any season, I hope you loved it!) 😄
> 
> It was such a joy returning to this amazing world, and I hope you felt the same! All of your kudos and comments from the first story mean the absolute world to me and truly inspired me to continue this narrative, so if you enjoyed our holiday special, please feel free to leave a comment, letting me know your thoughts or favorite moments or anything you want to share! 😊
> 
> (And if you have any other ideas for follow-up stories, let me know! 😉)
> 
> As always, you're welcome to come follow me and chat with me on Tumblr @ buckyandthejets - where you can check out and share this story with its beautiful cover art 💖
> 
> Happy Holidays, everyone! - Katie


End file.
